Do you really want me?
by faith-in-Faith
Summary: What if Faith actually did love Bosco... The conclusion is up is up!
1. Chapter one

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith_in_Faith  
  
E-MAIL: faith_in_Faith@hotmail.com  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own a thing, just borrow and play a bit.  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILER: Up to and including season five.  
  
AUTHORS NOTE: First: THANKS ksunsunghero and wine-into water for beta-read this for me! And if anyone doesn't remember: My first language isn't English so try to endure the mistakes you might find : )  
  
Secondly: This is my first B/F shipper story and I want to thank Schmoo and Bee for the brainwash that made this possible ; ) but I also want to thank CCA and all the other anti-shippers for showing me the difficulties with this scenario, witch hopefully have made it a better story : )  
  
Third: To two of my most faithful reviewers; Joey51 and kidycomfort, I'm sorry guys I know none of you are big on shipper stories so I feel like I'm letting you down a bit.but hopefully you will enjoy it anyway.  
  
Well enough talking, over to the story : ) and PLEASE R&R!!  
  
DO YOU REALLY WANT ME?  
  
CHAPTER ONE.  
  
I stand in front of the mirror brushing my hair and look at myself. I look awful. I have big black shadows beneath my eyes because of the lack of sleep. It makes them look bigger than they really are. They dominate my whole face, like I was a fucking deer or something. I can't sleep, at least not as much as I want to. I think too much. Think about him, about Bosco. I shouldn't I know that. There's nothing good coming from it anyway. I can't solve the problems we have, and I only end up pissing Fred off, because I'm not listening to what he says. I can't stop thinking about him though, so my mind just goes round and round in circles, and I hate it. I have a lot of things I should think about instead. Like what to do about Emily, what to do about Fred, what to do about the fact that I am a lousy wife and mother. It's true, I am. Even Bosco thinks so. You see, back to square one, to Bosco.  
  
I gather my things, keys in the jacket pocket, cell phone and gun in the purse, clean uniform in my left hand, I put out the light and lock the door. Sitting here on the subway I start to think about him again, Bosco. I can't help wondering if he's going to work with me today, probably not. Maybe it's for the best. All we ever do nowadays is fight, and I guess it's better to avoid each other. Still I hate every moment he's not working with me, because that means he's working with her, with Cruz. I honestly didn't think that I could really hate someone, but I was wrong. I hate her. I really hate her. Bos, on the other hand, adores her. He's following her around like a damn puppy, buying everything she says, no matter how stupid or cruel it is.  
  
I hate her though. She turns him into someone I don't know. Someone I don't like. To be really honest with myself, the Bosco I fight with nowadays isn't Bosco, not my Bosco. It's someone totally different, someone hard, cruel and cold. He doesn't seem to care about people anymore, least of all me. The Bosco I fight with isn't my Bosco. It's Cruz's Bosco, and believe me, that version really sucks.  
  
I have to admit though that it made my decision so much easier. It even made the physical effort to close the door in his face easier, but not as easy as I wish it would be. When I close my eyes I can still see his pleading face in front of me. I can see the desperate look in his eyes, and it feels like someone is twisting a knife in my chest. I know exactly why it feels that way. That was how it felt like for Bosco when I closed the door in his face, and I know I've deserved every inch of the pain I feel, for doing that to my best friend. It took all I had not to open the door again and beg him for forgiveness, but I couldn't do that. This is the only way, and I know it. I really do. Still it feels like my heart is broken and my life is starting to fall apart even more. I have no choice though.  
  
I have a lot of reasons to behave the way I do. First of all: I know that in the same moment I've rescued him, he will run straight back to her again, and I can't take that anymore. I can't just stand there and watch how he chooses to destroy his life again. I can't stand for him to choose her over me again. See, there I said it. This is what this really is about when it comes down to it. He chose her instead of me, and I'm jealous as hell, because I love him.  
  
Yeah, I love him. I know it's hard to believe considering the fact that we always fight, and that I treat him like one of my kids most of the time, but that's why I do it. If I think of him as one of my kids I can deny my feelings for him, because you're not in love with your own kid, at least no that way.Treating him like one of my kids is the only way for me to stay sane. It eases the pain I feel for not being able to show him my true feelings. It gives me a chance to deny they even exist. It gives me a chance to show him love and affection without anyone getting suspicious. Without Fred getting suspicious. The problem is, it isn't working anymore. I don't know why, and I don't know what to do. All I know is that my cover isn't working anymore, and that it makes my world to fall a part quickly and completely.  
  
I don't know for how long I have loved him, but I think I have since the first time I saw him. I'm not sure though because he is always getting on my nerves too. Half of the time I'm with him I want to strangle him, and the other half I just want to hug him, but the fact remains, I love him. For the past nine years I've been able to keep that love hidden from him, Fred, and most of the time, from myself. It wasn't really all that hard from the beginning. I mean, I loved Fred and I was married to him, and had kids with him, and most importantly, Bosco didn't give a damn about me. He was off limit, so there wasn't really a problem. You can't capture the sun.  
  
Sometimes it's harder for me to hide it, and convince myself that I don't love him, and don't need him. Like when Fred drove drunk. But Bosco has always made it clear to me that he thinks Fred and I belong together, and that it's my job to keep it together and make it work. He thinks I owe it to Emily and Charlie, and he's right, but it has never worked. Instead I only end up hurting everyone and make them miserable. He's right. I'm a bad mother and I do love to blame him and Fred for everything, but I can't help it. I can't act any different, because it is his fault. Yeah, well, kind of anyway, because if I didn't love him, there would be no problem. But I do, and know that love is destroying my life.  
  
I know you probably wonder why I didn't just ask for a different partner right from the beginning. The answer to that is that I was selfish-as usual. Loving him makes it easier for me to get through the day, to deal with the awful world we live in. I love to watch him as he drives, and I love the way he says "What?" when he feels my eyes on him. I love the way he smiles when he teases me and the way he grins when he thinks he's smart. Hell, I even love how he yells and complains when he's in a bad mood. I love the way he always walks so close to me that I can feel his arm brush against mine. It makes me feel safe and cared for. I love the way we can just sit in silence, and the way we can talk without words. Me, being near him make it easier for me to deal with the mistakes and wrong choices I've made in life. So since I was the only one who knew about that love, I figured it would do no harm. I guess I was wrong. Now everything is falling apart.  
  
It's entirely my fault, because I'm starting to have serious problems to hide my love. Over the years there have been times when I slipped up and let a glimpse of my love and affection for him show. That has made Fred hate my job and dislike Bosco. From time to time he accuses me for rather spending time with Bosco than my family, and for putting Bosco first all the time. I know he's jealous and he have every right to be, because he's right about it all. I would leave him in a heartbeat if Bosco said he wanted me, but he doesn't. He never has and never will. He's off limit. He doesn't want to have a relation ship, least of all with me.  
  
Back to what I was saying, I'm starting to have serious problems to hide my love. Like I said before, I don't know when I started to love him, but I do know when I was starting to have serious problem to deal with my love. It was the night he cried in my arms. I think I never have realized before how much he needed me. I mean, I kind of knew it, because he got so upset when I got cancer. Even made me promise not to get sick again, but he has always given me the impression that he's doing fine without me, although he needs me from time to time. That day his actions told me different. Holding his shaking body in my arms as he cried changed everything. It took down the wall, and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to be able to rebuild it. Maybe I don't want too. The fact that I can't make everything fall apart, because they can all feel it, and no one seems to like it. Emily hates me, and Fred is more suspicious than ever before. He saw us, and I know he could see the difference. So he's suspicious. He constantly asks me if Bosco really is worth it, and begs me to start thinking about my family. This is nothing new, and it wouldn't be so hard for me to handle if it wasn't for Bosco.  
  
He can feel the change too, and his answer is to run away, to Cruz. My love drew him right in the arms of that awful, backstabbing bitch. He chose her. Obviously we have reached a point where he does anything to get away from me, and that's the reason for me to close the door in his face. It's my job to keep him in line and out of trouble, and it's my job to keep my family together, and this is my way of doing that. If I drive him away he doesn't have to run to get away from me, and then he might make a better choice of partner. He isn't stupid. He just doesn't always think before he acts. If we aren't partners anymore I don't have to concentrate on hiding my love, and when he's not around Fred will have no reason to be jealous. I can concentrate on saving my marriage and my relationship to my kids. This is the best solution, the only solution, for all of us. I know that. I just wish I didn't feel as much as a traitor as I do. I just wish there was some way to make him see that it's all for the best. I just wish I didn't feel so lonely.  
  
When he drags me out to the parking lot in front of the precinct I immediately feel a knot in my stomach. I know I'm doomed. I know we're all doomed, because I know I'm not going to be able to resist. I can tell by his body language that he's desperate, and I know myself. I can't turn him down one more time. I just can't. I love him too much. I have to save him, as always. Still I hear myself put up a fight, trying to resist, but he knows how to make me do as he wishes. He always has, and the look in his eyes when he says the words I longed to hear is heartbreaking.  
  
"Because you're the only one, Faith. I don't have anyone else."  
  
How could I resist that? I love him, and he's choosing me again. I know it's a mistake, and I know it's going to end up in disaster, but I can't help myself. He's the only one for me too, and I can't let him down. I love him.  
  
*****************  
  
In the same moment I hear him scream my name I know the disaster is a fact, and that no good will come out of this. I see Cruz's mouth move as she yells at me, but I don't hear her. All I'm aware of is Bosco's frightened, desperate eyes, and I look calmly at him and silently try to reassure him that everything is going to be OK. Suddenly she points her gun at me. I point mine at her and I know Bosco is doing the same. I don't even have to look to know he does. We all fire, and when I feel the bullet enter my body I know that I've lied to him again, because this is not going to be OK. I have been shot, and Fred is going to be pissed as hell, and Bosco is going to feel guilty. 


	2. Chapter two

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith_in_Faith  
  
E-MAIL: faith_in_Faith@hotmail.com  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters, just borrow them and play : )  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILERS: Up to, and including season five, but to this- and the following chapters- also my story "All that glitters is not gold." So if you haven't read it, you might want to. (It's short ; )) But you don't have to. You can just play along too ; )  
  
AUTHORS NOTE: My thanks to Bee and Schmoo whose shipper brainwash has made this story possible, and to Joey, who isn't just beta-reading this for me, but also teaching me a lot of English! I owe you BIG time!  
  
THANKS everyone for the great reviews! I don't know what to say! You're all too kind! And to bethanychristine, does he love her? Well, time will tell.. ;)  
  
CHAPTER TWO  
  
I can feel myself slowly waking up. I lie completely still for a couple of seconds, trying to determent if I'm in pain or not, but everything feels fine, so I carefully open my eyes. I search the room, and try to figure out if I'm alone or not. Suddenly I spot Fred. He's sitting at the foot of the bed, reading the newspaper. Seeing him here makes me feel uneasy. Like I have something to be ashamed of, and suddenly I realize I have.  
  
The memories come rushing over me, and I know I have screwed up big time. I have been shot because of Bosco. No, that's not right. I have been shot because I chose Bosco-again-although I promised Fred not to. That's not the worst part, though. I want to die when I think about what I said before they took me to surgery. Yeah, I remember. I wish as hell I didn't, but I do. I know I called Bosco's name. I thought I was dying, and the only thing I wanted before doing that, was for him to be OK, alive and unhurt. No, that's not the whole truth. I wanted another thing too. I wanted his precious face to be the last thing I saw, but the only one there was Fred. I can't help but feel grateful- in more then one way- that I'm alive. I sigh. What a mess! How am I ever going to fix this?  
  
The sigh makes Fred to look over at me, and when he sees that I'm awake, he rushes to my side. He takes my hand and looks down at me and says lovingly, "Hi there beautiful."  
  
I can see the tears in his eyes, and it makes me feel incredibly guilty. He loves me so much. I was almost taken from him and the kids, and all I can think of is Bosco- as usual. I wonder if Fred has killed him yet. I'm sure not even Jesus can keep him from blaming Bosco for this.  
  
I can't look at him anymore. I'm too ashamed. I drop my gaze to our joined hands, and suddenly I know for sure he hasn't killed Bosco, because now I remember something else. This isn't the first time I'm awake since the operation, but the last time I was awake someone else sat here and held my hand. The last time Bosco was here. I feel my eyes tearing up. I can't help myself. I'm in a sea of mixed emotions: relief, gratefulness, happiness and shame. I'm happy, grateful and relived that he's OK, and still cares about me, and ashamed because I'm wishing he was still here instead of Fred. He- of course- doesn't know why I'm crying so his conclusion is that I'm scared. He carefully caresses my cheek.  
  
"It's OK baby. I'm here now. No one can harm you as long as I'm around. I'll protect you," he reassures me.  
  
His words only cause more tears to pour from my eyes and run down my cheeks, because I don't want him to say those things. I don't want him to protect me. I want Bosco to do it. The worst thing though, is that his actions bring up another memory -which I know isn't true. It has to be from my imagination, because what I remember is Bosco caressing my cheek. He would never do such thing-not with me. My brain knows there's no way it could have happened the way I think I remember, but my heart is breaking because I want it to be true so badly.  
  
Fred continues to shush me, and I know I have to put myself together. I have to stop thinking about Bosco. I have to stop imagining things, and start to deal with real life- with Fred.  
  
"Honey, are you in pain?" he asks with concern.  
  
I shake my head, and try to get my emotions under control. Fred wipes away the tears from my cheeks and presses the call button.  
  
"I'm gonna let them know you're awake. The doctor needs to check on you, but you don't have to be afraid. I'll stay with you the whole time."  
  
I manage to give him a tiny smile as I say, "Thanks."  
  
"I'm always here for you, baby," he replies and squeezes my hand fondly.  
  
I close my eyes, and hate myself for not being able to love him as much as he loves me. Actually, I don't love him at all. I only love Bosco, and that's a bloody disaster. I wish there was a way to get ride of these feelings. There's no way I'm going to be that lucky though, because I haven't been able to find one in ten years, and I highly doubt it's going to happen now. Suddenly a nurse appears in the doorway.  
  
She smiles kindly at us and says, "So you're awake, Officer Yokas, that's wonderful. I'll get the doctor, OK?"  
  
"Thanks," Fred replies, while I just smile back weakly.  
  
Soon enough the doctor is in the room and starts his examination, poking and prodding all over me. He is very interested in my legs, and he pinches them and things like that. At least he says he does, I don't feel a thing. The fact that I don't, seems to worry both him and Fred, but I don't really care. I'm starting to get tired again, and all I want to do is sleep. If I do, then Bosco might be here when I wake up. That's my last thought before I drift off to sleep.  
  
***************  
  
I can hear the voices of two children talking to each other, and I realize it has to be my kids. I open my eyes and find myself looking straight into my daughter's concerned eyes. I smile weakly at her.  
  
She smiles back and says," Hi mom, how you feeling?"  
  
I swallow and try to clear my throat. It's very dry.  
  
"Are you thirsty?" she asks kindly.  
  
I nod, and she looks apologetically at me. "I'm sorry. The nurse said you can't have anything to drink yet, but I can't wet your lips if you want to."  
  
I nod again, and she gently wet my lips with and ice-cube. When it starts to melt, some of the water sips into my mouth and it feels real good.  
  
She takes it away again, and I smile gratefully at her and say, "I feel OK."  
  
"Good, I'm just gonna go out in the hall and get Dad and Charlie OK?"  
  
I nod and she leaves. A few moments later my whole family enters my room. I can't help the tears from forming in my eyes again. I love my kids so much, and I'm starting to wonder if Bosco really is worth dying for, but I know he is. Unfortunately for my poor family, I would make the same choice again in a heartbeat. No wonder everyone thinks I'm a bad mother.  
  
Charlie hesitantly approaches my bed and says quietly, " Hi mom."  
  
I hold out my hand and smile at him. "Hi there, sweetie!"  
  
His face lit up with a smile and he runs to me, but before he can hug me Fred's stern voice calls from behind, "Careful, Charlie. She's hurt, remember?"  
  
He slows down just as he reaches my bed, but I'm able to catch him with my right arm, and pull him into a hug. I can feel that he's starting to cry. I caress his hair with my free hand and say soothingly, "It's OK, Charlie. It's alright. I'm fine, and everything is OK now."  
  
He pulls away from me and asks in a shaky voice," Are you coming home soon?"  
  
"I don't know, sweetie. We have to ask the doctor; OK?"  
  
He nods and looks unsurely over at Fred.  
  
" That's OK, Charlie. Sit by your mom, you too, Emily. I think it's time to read from the bible, and thank God."  
  
I can't help a slight sigh from escaping my lips, but I quickly suppress the urge to roll my eyes. It's not that I'm not grateful to be alive. I am, and I'm even more grateful that Bosco is alive and unhurt, but this feels like hypocrisy.  
  
I look over at my daughter, who holds my gaze as she smiles and completes the task of eye rolling for me. Her actions catch me by surprise, because the last time I checked she adored Fred and hated me. Now all I can see in her eyes are compassion and understanding. I can't help but wonder what's up. Fred starts to read the bible, and Charlie carefully curls up in bed beside me.  
  
I close my eyes and try to block out Fred. I need to think. I need to come up with a way to drive Bosco away again; which isn't easy since I've already told him I forgive him. I really need to though, because I know- according to what my thoughts have been concentrated on since I woke up- that if I had problems hiding my feelings before, it's nothing compared to what I'm gonna have now. I don't know what's wrong with me. Right now it feels like I can't live another day without him, but I know I have to. There's no other option. I owe Fred and the kids to stay with them- especially after this- and Bosco is definitely better off without me. He might think me needs me-one way or another-but he doesn't love me. If he knew how I feel, he would be long gone by now. Maybe that's the way. It would definitely solve the problem for good, that's for sure, but no, it's to humiliating for me. As the selfish person I am I can't do it. I sigh. I really hate this. I can't find a way out, but I know I have to. Rather before Bosco comes back, otherwise Fred is going to get suspicious again. I sigh one more time, and open my eyes.  
  
When I do, I realize that Emily is gazing intensely at me, and I give her a reassuring smile. She doesn't smile back, but her eyes plead with me to understand something. I try to tell her with my eyes that I understand she wants to tell me something. She shift her gaze to Fred and then back to me again, and I realize she wants to talk to me alone-without Fred listening. I nod slightly to let her know I've understood. I'm starting to feel afraid. What can Emily possibly have done that's so bad she doesn't want Fred to know? At the same time I'm amazed. I can't remember being able to have a conversation without words with anyone, but Bosco before. Maybe Fred was right when he said we are a lot alike. At the time he told me I answered, " Yeah like oil and water," now I'm not so sure anymore. Maybe we really are alike.  
  
Emily looks intensely at me again before turning to Fred.  
  
"Dad, I think mom needs to rest. Why don't you take Charlie to the cafeteria and get him something to eat? I'll stay with mom."  
  
"Yeah, please dad, can we? I'm so hungry!" Charlie exclaims hopefully.  
  
Fred looks worriedly at me. "You tired baby?"  
  
I nod wearily, and close my eyes to show just how tired I am.  
  
"Ok," he says hesitantly. " Are you sure it's OK if I leave? Emily can take him if you want me to stay with you."  
  
I quickly open my eyes and look at him as lovingly as I can, careful about not letting my eager for being alone with my daughter to show, and reply, "Yeah that's OK."  
  
Fred reaches out and takes Charlie's hand, and says, "Emily, I'll bring you back something."  
  
Emily smiles kindly at him." That would be great Dad."  
  
He nods, and they exit the room.  
  
I shift my gaze back to Emily, and reach out my hand as I ask, "Emily, what's wrong?"  
  
She comes over to me, sits down on the edge of my bed, and takes my hand.  
  
"Nothing is wrong,"she answers gently, "but we need to talk- about Bosco."  
  
My heart skips a beat when she says his name. I swallow hard and say weakly, "Emily.."  
  
She immediately cuts me off. "No mom, please be quiet and listen to me, OK?"  
  
I nod, and she looks kindly at me, and asks carefully, "Do you remember that Bosco was here earlier, and sat with you for awhile?"  
  
"Yeah," I answer quietly.  
  
She looks relieved, "OK that's good, because he really cares a lot for you, you know."  
  
"I know," I whisper and fight hard to hold back my tears.  
  
"He really does. He almost started to cry when he saw you," she says with amazement in her voice. "I felt sorry for him. He feels so guilty. He really thinks it's his fault."  
  
"It isn't. He didn't force me to do anything. It's important for me that you understand that, Emily," I say eagerly, although I don't really know why I'm defending him.  
  
It would be much easier to let him take the blame. Defending him the way I do will probably just make Emily hate both of us again, but to my surprise she just squeezes my hand fondly and replies, "I know. I told Dad that when he hit him."  
  
"Did your dad hit him?" I ask anxiously, afraid that Fred had done some serious damage to him.  
  
Emily looks kindly at me as she squeezes my hand again. "Yeah, he did, but don't worry about it. Sully split it up. He didn't get seriously hurt, just a bruise I think, and you can be proud of him. He didn't even try to fight back."  
  
I breathe a sigh in relief and she smiles, but quickly turn serious when she hears Fred and Charlie's voices in the hall.  
  
"I just wanted you to know that he cares about you, in case Dad never let him near you again."  
  
"Why would he not let Bosco near me again? Bosco said he wasn't angry with him anymore," I ask bewildered.  
  
She looks at me, her eyes filled with compassion and something else- pity maybe. Then she opens her moth to respond, but in that moment Fred and Charlie enter the room and she quickly closes it again. I quickly close my eyes and pretend to be asleep, but I can't help but wonder if she knows something I don't.  
  
*****************  
  
It isn't until the next morning I get the explanation. The doctor comes in and stands next to my bed with an uncomfortable look on his face. He shifts his gaze to Fred-, who immediately reaches for my hand-and clears his throat, as he says, "Officer Yokas I'm afraid I have some bad news. The bullet is located very close to your spine and for the moment you're paralyzed."  
  
He continues to talk and explains the whole thing, but I'm not listening anymore. I can't believe I didn't notice it myself, but come to think about it, I haven't tried to move around much. They had me drugged up pretty good, so I was comfortable with just lying here.  
  
I can't get upset about it though. I know I have deserved this. This is my punishment for all the bad choices I have made in my life. It's my punishment for hurting the people I love, but I can't help thinking about Bosco. He's going to feel so guilty. This is totally going to destroy him, and I want to cry when I think about it. Suddenly I realize I do, because the doctor has stopped talking and looks at me with pity in his eyes, and Fred caresses my hair and whispers lovingly in my ear to try to sooth me. I'm more than happy he doesn't know I am crying for Bosco.  
  
In that moment I realize that my punishment is much harder than just being paralyzed. God has giving me the opportunity to drive Bosco away for good. I can pretend that I blame him for this. I can pretend that I hate him. I can tell him to go away. It's the perfect solution, because if the guilt doesn't kill him, it sure as hell going to keep him away. Fred is going to be pleased, and none of them will ever know the truth. It's perfect, and yet so horrible. I know this is going to destroy Bosco, but what no one will ever know is that it's going to destroy me too. How am I ever going to survive a life in a wheelchair without his support? How am I ever going to get through another day, knowing I'll never see him again? The thought makes me cry even harder, and when Fred kisses my face and continues to shush me I can't help, but wish that Bosco was the one doing it, instead.  
  
TBC. 


	3. Chapter three

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith_in_Faith  
  
E-MAIL: faith_in_Faith@hotmail.com  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own this at all, just borrow.  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILERS: Up to and including season five, plus my story "all that glitters is not gold."  
  
AUTHORS NOTE: Thanks- as usual to Bee, Schmoo and wine-into- water for the shipper inspiration. Thanks also to Sandy for helping me with the details of what happened this season, since I haven't seen it yet : ) Finally: to all your kind people who tell me my English is good. All the credit for that goes to my wonderful beta-readers: The ones I've worn out: Jenny, Carina and ksunsunghero. The one who still struggling to make me better; JOEY! Thanks! I really appreciate the time and effort you put into this : )  
  
CHAPTER THREE  
  
"I'm so sorry," I can hear a voice whisper from far away. It sounds weary, and it's filled with anguish and regret. I know that voice. I know it very well, but in my semiconscious state I can't place it. Then- suddenly- I'm fully awake, and now I know-without any doubt- who whispered those words.  
  
It's Bosco! He's here! I quickly open my eyes, and there he is, my Bosco. This is the man I love to death. The look on his face and in his eyes is heartbreaking, and if I didn't know better I would have thought that he loves me just as much as I love him. All I want to do is to touch his face and pull him into a hug. I want to reassure him that everything is OK. I want to make that pained and guilty look in his eyes go away- but I can't. I have to start the rejecting process. So instead of the love and affection I want to show him, I put an angry and dismissing look on my face.  
  
"What are you doing here? I don't want to see you right now," I say in the annoyed tone of voice that I usually use when I need to keep my love hidden.  
  
I can see a flash of hurt in his eyes, but it quickly disappears. It's replaced with that irresistible, adorable look of faithfulness and affection he shows me occasionally.  
  
"Please, Faith, just listen to me for a minute. We really need to talk." His voice is very gentle when he pleads with me.  
  
"Then talk, " I answer shortly.  
  
"You need to tell them I shot Cruz," he says fervently, and the look in his eye is soft and caring.  
  
"We both did," I reply, and I can hear that the confusion I feel shows in my voice.  
  
"No.I shot Noble. You shot Cruz, and Cruz shot you."  
  
"Cruz shot last?" I whisper in disbelief.  
  
He nods with a sympathetic look in his eyes.  
  
Great! Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I learn that I shot a sergeant, who probably wasn't even a threat. Great, just great, this really is a mess!  
  
Bosco still gazes fondly at me, waiting for me to tell him what I want him to do next. God, sometimes he really acts like a dog! In the same moment I finish the thought, I feel guilty. I know what he's trying to do. He's trying to save me. He's trying to repay me for getting hurt when I was helping him. Some help, huh? Now he's deeper in shit than ever before, but he doesn't seem to care. Instead, he's trying to save me, to be there for me, just as he promised me he always would be- but there's no way this is going to happen the way he wants. I'm not letting him sacrifice his life and career to save me. He needs to be a cop, that's what he lives for. That's the only life he has, and he is going to need his job in order to survive when I drive him away.  
  
So I just say dismissively, "I'm not gonna lie when they ask me. I'm gonna tell them the truth."  
  
He looks pleadingly at me, "Please, Faith, just tell them I shot Cruz and everything will be OK."  
  
Once again, the look in his eyes almost fools me to believe he loves me too, and I want to cry, but instead I just reply softly, "No, it's not gonna be OK."  
  
He doesn't know it yet, but nothing is ever going to be OK again. I'm paralyzed and about to hurt him again, and for him to lose his job- or worse- go to jail is not going to help at all. The look on his face is one of total confusion. He knows there's more to this than what I'm saying, but-of course- he hasn't a clue what about.  
  
Then, all of a sudden, Fred is in the room, and just as I thought, he gets furious when he spots Bosco. He immediately turns around and shouts to the cop at the door, "Take him out of here! I don't want him anywhere near my family!" then he turns to Bosco and yells, "She's paralyzed because of you! Hasn't she done enough to help you already?"  
  
I can't help to roll my eyes at his histrionical behavior. Of course, how could I forget? I should have known that I could count on Fred when it comes to driving Bosco away. He's always mean to him. It's very understandable though- jealousy does that to people.  
  
I can see Bosco freeze and look over at me. The guilt and anguish in his eyes is almost killing me. Then he says with a mix of disbelieve and fear in his voice, "Paralyzed?"  
  
It takes all I have not to cry when the cop at the door drags him out of the room, and the fact that he's pleading with Fred to convince me to save myself, doesn't do anything to ease my pain.  
  
*************************  
  
I'm lying in my bed, flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. So, this is how the rest of my life is going to be? I make a face. This seems like so much fun. I'm bored already, and it has just been a couple of days. I can't imagine how bored I'm going to be in a couple months, or worse, years from now. I sigh, and my thoughts go to Bosco-who else?  
  
He was here again, a few hours ago and asked me if I'd told anyone about all the dirty things Cruz has done. When I told him no, he seemed happy. I guess he thinks he has found another way to get me off the hook. Not that I care that much. I can't do any police work anyway. Bosco got very upset when I told him that. He said they aren't just going to take my job, they are going to put me in jail too, but I still don't care. If I'm going to spend the rest of my life in a wheel chair I might as well do it in jail, but I know it's important to Bosco. If he can save me from jail, then he's going to feel less guilty, and- considering what I'm planning to do to him- he needs any relief he can get. So, for his sake, I hope things are going to work out.  
  
I hear someone talk to the cop outside my door, and then Swersky walks into the room. I can't help but feel a bit surprised. Sure he's my boss, and sure he has every right to visit his wounded officer, but I'm still surprised that he's here.  
  
He approaches my bed with a kind, fatherly expression on his face. I realize that someone probably told him I'm paralyzed, and now he's here to pity me. Well, this is going to be fun! He smiles kindly at me, motions towards the chair next to my bed, and says, " Can I sit down?"  
  
I nod, and force a smile as I reply," Sure."  
  
We look at each other in silence for a while before he asks, "So, how are you doing?"  
  
"Fine, " I answer quietly, not sure about why he's here, or where this conversation is going to end, but I can tell from the look on his face that this isn't just a courtesy call. In some way he means business.  
  
"I'm sorry to hear you're paralyzed," his voice is kind and gentle.  
  
I just nod in return, because there isn't really anything to say.  
  
Then his expression changes, and he looks very serious when he asks, " So, Faith, tell me, what is this really about?"  
  
I can feel my heart starting to beat faster. Now what? Has he found out about the dirty things Cruz made Bosco do? "What do you mean?" I'm trying to stall, and I can tell he knows that.  
  
"Tell me what he has on you to make you do these stupid things for him," he presses gently.  
  
I feel my eyes go wide, and I just stare at him, completely stunned by his words. Why would he ask a thing like that? Does he really think Bosco blackmailed me into this? Before I get a chance to reply, he speaks again, "Please, Faith, tell me."  
  
I swallow hard and try to regain my composure. "Nothing, sir, he has nothing on me," I answer in a shaky voice.  
  
I can tell he doesn't believe me, and why would he? I'm not sounding especially convincing to my own ears, and I can just imagine how lam he must think my reply is.  
  
"Faith, why don't you trust me?" he asks, and the look in his eyes is just as sad as his voice."  
  
"I trust you, sir," I reply quietly.  
  
"Then tell me the truth."  
  
I look down at my hands. "I already have."  
  
"I don't believe you," he states matter of factually.  
  
"Well, I have made a statement. Everything I know is in there, sir," I say, a lot more firmly than before.  
  
"Come on, Yokas! Do you really think I'm that stupid? You're one of my most levelheaded officers. Why would you do anything as stupid as this to save Boscorelli? The things he has done are illegal, and I know you know that."  
  
There is anger in his voice, and I don't know what to say. I don't have an answer to that, at least none I can tell him.  
  
"I owe him," I finally answer softly.  
  
Swersky's features soften, and he looks kindly at me with compassion filled eyes. "I thought so. Now tell me, what does he have on you?"  
  
I realize that he took my answer as a confirmation of what he's suspecting all the time. I feel panic starting to rise inside, and I try desperately to come up with something to say that will convince him that he's wrong. "No, sir, it's not like that. He's my partner."  
  
He immediately cuts me off. "No he isn't. You asked for a new one, remember?"  
  
OK, that hurt, but he's right. We aren't partners anymore.  
  
He runs his hand over his hair and sighs, "Faith, please. Tell me the truth. I know something is going on. I've known it ever since that day. I said you could talk to me if he was in trouble, remember?"  
  
I nod, and look away so he can't see the tears in my eyes. I can't think about that day without crying, because-except for aborting my child-that is the hardest thing I've ever done.  
  
"I wish you had told me the truth," he says tiredly," because then we might have been able to avoid this whole situation. He's always in trouble, isn't he? And you always bail him out, don't you?"  
  
I don't answer, because I don't trust my voice.  
  
He sighs again. "I'm sorry, Faith. I should have known there was something seriously wrong for you to abandon him like that. So, now tell me, what is this all about? Are you afraid of him? Is he threatening you? Because if he does, you don't have to be afraid, I won't let him hurt you."  
  
"No!" I almost scream. "He would never hurt me! He's not bad or dangerous. He's a good guy, and a great cop, and you know that! He just needs to stay away from Cruz, that's all."  
  
This is just too much. It seems as that no matter what I do, I only manage to get Bosco into deeper shit. Now my behavior has caused my boss to think he's blackmailing me, and that I'm afraid of him. I'm almost starting to wish the bullet had just killed me. Everyone around me is better off without me-that's for sure. At least the ones I love. I suddenly feel an enormous pain in my back, and I can feel a cold sweat break out on my forehead.  
  
Swersky looks worriedly at me and asks, "Yokas, are you OK?  
  
I take a deep breath, and nod wearily. "Please, sir, believe me. I'm not afraid of him, and he's not blackmailing me. I swear!"  
  
"OK," he says reluctantly, and I can tell he doesn't really believe me, "but just to be on the safe side I'm gonna keep him away from both you and Cruz. You just try to get better now, OK?"  
  
"Yes, sir, " I answer weakly. It doesn't sound all that bad; at least Cruz can't get him in trouble again if she isn't allowed to work with him.  
  
He nods, and smiles at me. He's eyes are kind and caring when he turns and leaves, and I can hear him murmur to himself, "He has something on her, he must have."  
  
I watch him leave, and I can't help but wonder, if it would have just been better just to tell him the real reason as to why I'll do anything for Bosco, but I doubt that would have solved anything. He probably wouldn't have believed me anyway.  
  
I don't know what to do anymore. Everything seems to be going wrong, but one thing I do know, is that this has to stop now. The next time Bosco comes to see me is going to be the last. I have to put an end to this before it gets completely out of hand. It's obvious that I can't help him, so I'll better let him go and concentrate on the only thing that should matter-my family.  
  
***********  
  
The last moment comes way too quickly. Suddenly, he's in the room, and I hear his precious voice call my name, "Faith."  
  
I can feel Fred tense beside me. I look up and meet Bosco's eyes. They are filled with compassion, guilt and hope. He hopes that his next statement is going to make me forgive him.  
  
"It worked.she backed off."  
  
"Good," I say tiredly.  
  
OK, so this is it. Now it's going to end. This is the last time I'll ever speak to him, or have him near me. I look at him and try to memorize every line in his face, but I know there's no need for that. I already know them. I've been looking at him for ten years. I know everything about how his face looks. I take a deep breath, and look over at Fred to get the strength I need to get through this, and- just as I hoped- the look in his eyes reminds me why I have to do this.  
  
"Now go away," I say causally. I know I sound like I don't really care, but I do.  
  
I can see the look of shock on this face, and the hurt look in his eyes is probably going to hunt me until I die, but there's no turning back now. This is best for all of us. It has to be, but right now it hurts so much I wish I could die. I can only hope that I'm doing the right thing, and that my actions don't hurt him as much as they hurt me.  
  
TBC.. 


	4. Chapter four

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith_in_Faith  
  
E-MAIL: faith_in_Faith@hotmail.com  
  
DISCLAIMER: None! I don't own this : (  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILERS: Up to, and including season five, and my story "All that glitters is not gold."  
  
AUTHORS NOTE: THANKS! To all of you who are reviewing this! I owe you! Please continue with that : ) Thanks also to Sandy for helping me with the lines, and to Joey for beta-reading this and to Cactus for all your nice compliments on my English. Now on with the story!  
  
CHAPTER FOUR.  
  
So, then I'm finally at home. There was no sweet homecoming though - it turned out to be pretty awful actually. I'm completely dependent on Fred. I can't do one single thing on my own. Not even go to the bathroom. It's so humiliating. I'm not used to being this helpless, and at the complete mercy of someone else. I'm used to be the strong one - the one people turn to for help. I'm used to being able to take care of myself. Now everything is different. Suddenly, I'm the one everybody has to take care of - and just to add to it - I'm close to tears all the time, just as these weak, hysterical women that Bosco hates. What he thinks doesn't matter anymore though, because he's gone, and I was the one who drove him away.  
  
I hear the door open, and Emily enters the room and comes over to me. I smile at her, as I take her hand and say, "Hi. I thought you had forgotten about me."  
  
She looks inquiringly at me before asking, "Did you know Bosco is parked outside, with some girl, in front of the house?"  
  
"Yeah, my boss thinks it's a good idea to have a squad car out in front of the house of a wounded officer - in case the family needs anything," I answer nonchalantly, as if I don't care, but I do. The truth is, my heart started to race in my chest when I heard his name. I knew the squad was there, but I didn't know he was the one in there with Monroe. I thought Swersky was supposed to keep him away from me.  
  
"Dad's gonna have a cow," she states simply.  
  
I look at her and try to find the silent understanding we shared at the hospital, as I say, "Well, lets not tell him."  
  
She doesn't disappoint me. I can see the understanding in her eyes, and then she nods. Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell rings through the apartment, and Emily almost jumps out of her skin. She turns to look at me with frightened eyes and hesitantly asks, " He wouldn't.would he?"  
  
"No," I say reassuringly.  
  
I know she doesn't have to worry. I have made sure he'll never come back again. She goes and opens the door and I can hear my mother in law's voice. I close my eyes. Great, now my day is complete!  
  
*********************  
  
God, how I wish that awful woman would go away! I just can't stand this for much longer! I don't want her help. I have never liked her, and now I almost hate her. I hate the way she's fussing around, and I hate the way she's talking to me like I am mentally incapable as well. Fred has been very nice and understanding so far, but it doesn't help. I hate to being totally dependent of him, and I'm scared to death that he will get tired of being my nurse and leave me. Then I will be completely alone, because the only other person I could always depend on standing by my side through anything, is gone. I drove him away and he's not going to come back. He's feeling guilty enough to obey my wishes this time. I close my eyes and try to hold back my tears. I miss him so much. I knew from the beginning, living without him was going to be hard - but I had no idea just how hard.  
  
Although my lovely family surrounds me - I feel lonely. Fred, Emily and Charlie, they have all been very supportive and caring - and I love them - but still I feel lonely. Just when I think I'm going to break down and cry, Emily walks into the room again. She smiles this kind, sweet smile of hers that's so common these days, and says, "Hi, Mom."  
  
"Hi," I answer, and try to keep my voice steady.  
  
She looks worriedly at me. "You OK?"  
  
I nod. "Yeah, I'm OK."  
  
She looks at me with doubtful eyes. "Are you sure? You don't need a painkiller? Bosco and his new partner took me to the pharmacy so I could pick them up," she says, and holds up a bag from the pharmacy in front of me.  
  
I shake my head and answer, "No, I'm fine." I can hear that my voice sounds a bit shaky, and my heart aces from hearing the words 'new partner." I swallow hard and remind myself that -I - did this to myself, no one else.  
  
Emily looks intensely at me for a few seconds, and then she asks softly, "You miss him a lot, don't you?"  
  
I close my eyes tightly. Shit! I forgot about her new ability of being able to read my mind.  
  
"Come on, Mom. It's me," she coaxes gently, "I won't tell Dad, I promise."  
  
I swallow hard and open my eyes again. "Yeah, I guess I am," I whisper.  
  
She frowns slightly. "Why did you do it then? Why did you tell him to go away if you didn't want him to?"  
  
I bite my bottom lip and answer," It's hard to explain, Em. I was angry with him, I guess."  
  
"I don't believe you. You said it wasn't his fault," she replies calmly.  
  
I look down at my hands. Why does she suddenly have to be so smart and caring? It only makes things worse. "I can't explain it. You wouldn't understand," I say wearily.  
  
"Does it have anything to do with Dad?" she asks softly.  
  
"Yeah, I owe it to him," I answer quietly.  
  
Emily puts her hands on my shoulders, and smiles fondly at me. "It's OK, Mom. He'll come around, and then you can ask Bosco to come back. Everything is gonna be alright. You just wait and see."  
  
"I don't think it's that simple, Em," I reply, and I can hear the sorrow in my voice.  
  
"Mom, Dad is a good guy and he loves you. He knows how much Bosco means to you. I'm sure he'll come around eventually, especially since you chose him this time."  
  
I can feel my heart starting to beat faster. What does she think she knows? She can't tell that I love Bosco, can she? It can't be - because then this is going to end up in a disaster. I know that.  
  
"What makes you think he made me choose?" I ask carefully.  
  
"Isn't that what he has always tried to make you do? Chose between us and Bosco, I mean," she states simply.  
  
"Emily," I say pleadingly, "It's not like you think.."  
  
She cuts me off. "It's OK, Mom, you don't have to explain. Dad is happy now, and he will forgive both of you eventually, I know that. Don't worry about it, and it's nice of you to try to make him happy. I love you for it," she says and smiles fondly at me.  
  
"Thanks, " I answer, and try to put a smile on my face that will convince her that everything is OK, and that there aren't any dark secrets to explore.  
  
"And don't worry about Bosco - he seems to be OK, and I know he still cares about you."  
  
I feel a mix of joy and despair. Joy, because he's OK - despite what I have done to him - and despair because he still cares about me. He isn't supposed to, but I'm still happy he does. God, I really am pathetic. I force another smile on my face and say, "Thanks, Em, for letting me know."  
  
She smiles back and replies, "He gave me his cell phone number too. If you need to talk to him - just ask to borrow my cell phone. I have his number on speed dial #6."  
  
Her voice is so kind and caring that I want to cry, "Thanks, but it's OK, " I whisper.  
  
She smiles once more and leaves me alone, I wonder when she got so smart and grown up.  
  
*************  
  
I sit in my wheelchair and let my mother spoon feed me - like I am a child. I don't care anymore. I don't have the strength to try anymore. Life without Bosco is far more terrible than I could ever imagine. I feel so incredibly lonely.  
  
When I see my therapist, I pretend to be mad at him. I pretend that I feel betrayed - and in a way I do - but I have to remember that I was the one who betrayed him this time. I'm not really mad either. It's just a cover to hide my grief. Yeah, I'm grieving. I have lost something. I have lost my best friend and soul mate. I have lost the love of my life. I feel so horribly lonely without him that it feels like he is dead, and I'm totally devastated.  
  
It is like all the strength I had before, was because of him - and now, now that he's gone, I'm just weak, pathetic and totally dependent, but it doesn't matter anymore. I don't need any strength. I can't be a cop anymore, and Fred seems to like to have a wife that's totally at his mercy. Don't get me wrong - he's wonderful and caring, but all these years we have been together, he has always wished for me to be at home - waiting for him. He has always wanted to protect me, and it has always annoyed him that Bosco was the one doing that. This - except for me being paralyzed - is exactly what he's always wanted. So, he isn't complaining, and I don't have to be strong in order to take care of and protect Bosco anymore either. He seems to be doing just fine without me. He doesn't even seem to miss me.  
  
Emily says that- judging from the few times she has seen him - he seems to be perfectly all right. He and Sasha seem to get along just fine - at least that's what she tells me at during her occasional visits. He seems to trust her just as much as he used to trust me. I know I should be happy and proud. I should be happy because he's been able to get over my betrayal, and find some one else to trust - and I was right. He isn't stupid. Just as I thought he would, he made a much better choice of partner when he didn't have to run to get away from me anymore. I should be proud of both of us. We both made the right choice - but I can't be. The jealousy is eating me alive. I want him to be mine - only mine. I must be insane, because no matter how things are, I want them to be the other way around.  
  
What bothers me the most, though, is that he and Cruz seem to get along fine too. Sasha told me that Cruz had been raped, and that actually made me feel sorry for her. I never would have thought that was going to happen in a lifetime - but I did. No one deserves a thing like that -not even Cruz. But when Sasha started to tell me how great Cruz and Bosco where getting along, and how nice he was to her - even asked her out for dinner - I wanted to scream.  
  
I felt sick. For a brief moment I even thought she got raped on purpose - just to be able to ensnare him in her toils again. It's an absurd and cruel thought, I know, but the power she has over him is so frustrating. Why can't he see her for what she is? How can he even think about socializing with her after all that had happen? Sometimes I almost think she has bewitched him, but I guess the simple truth is that he actually loves her - really loves her. He's not just using her for sex.. figures, that when he finally falls in love with someone, it has to be with a bitch. When he finally falls in love it has to be with someone else, other than me.  
  
There's nothing I can do about it, though. I have to realize it's over. I have to realize that I don't mean as much to him as he does to me. He has moved on. I should be happy, because that's exactly what I wanted him to do, but I'm not. I'm so sad and lonely. I want to die. 


	5. Chapter five

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith_in_Faith.  
  
E-MAIL: faith_in_Faith@hotmail.com  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, only borrow, them a bit.  
  
SPOILER: up to and including season five. My story "All that glitters is not gold."  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for all the kind reviews ( they are all very inspiring! Please keep them coming. Thanks to Joey, for correcting this and teaching me English.  
  
CHAPTER FIVE  
  
It's been moths now, since I last saw him. On my request, Fred took us all away on a vacation. It was nice, but it didn't do what I had hoped it would. It didn't ease the pain from losing Bosco.  
  
I don't even think he even knew I was gone. Christmas came and went - not a word from Bos. I know now that I've succeeded. I have managed to drive him away for good. He doesn't care anymore. It's hard, but that was what I wanted, so I can't really complain. I know I have to start dealing with the truth. I have to go on with my life. I know he's alright - both Emily and Sasha keep telling me so. So, I know it's safe to let go. He's fine without me. And me? Yeah, well. I'll survive. What else is there to do? I know I have to start to build a life without him. It's not going to be easy, but there's nothing else I can do.  
  
I'm slowly getting better. I can stand now - even walk a few feet on my own, although I need a cane to lean on. It feels good, because the feeling of total helplessness is gone, and I feel like I'm starting to take control of my life again.  
  
Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. I sigh lightly, and grab hold of the coffee table to get up from the couch. I know I have to get the door myself, because there's no one else at home. I stand up slowly and grab my cane, which stands beside the couch, and slowly make my way to the door and pull it open.  
  
Sasha stands outside in her uniform, and smiles at me as she says, "Hi."  
  
"Hi," I answer, and open the door wider for her to come in, before turning around and slowly walking back to the couch.  
  
Sasha follows me and sits down beside me. Then she starts to do small talk - as she always does when she come to visit. She asks how I'm doing, congratulates me to my excellent progress, and talks about work and stuff like that. There's something different about her today, though. She almost seems nervous. She's shifting continuously on the couch, and it feels like she's trying to avoid my gaze. I wonder what's up, because something is up - I'm sure about that now. Suddenly it hits me that she hasn't brought up Bosco yet. She usually does eventually, in a casual way - like she doesn't plan to, and I always pretend not to care about whether she does or not - but I do. Actually, that's the only reason to that I'm listening to her rambling in the first place. I have a feeling she's aware of that, but she never makes anything of it, and I'm grateful for it. But today she doesn't seem to be able to get to the point. I decide to offer her some help.  
  
"So, you say work is quiet. I guess that means Bosco hasn't managed to drive you insane yet," I say lightly.  
  
She fidgets a bit, and put in a lot of effort to avoid my gaze. Then she takes a deep breath before answering, "Well, one of the reasons to that it's been so quiet and peaceful is because he hasn't been around this week."  
  
I can feel my heart skip a beat. Now what? What does she mean with 'hasn't been around this week?' It's Friday today for crying out loud! Does she really mean he hasn't been at work for five days? Why wouldn't he be at work? He loves work. He never misses it. I'm starting to get afraid. Has something happened to him? Is that why Monroe acts so strange?  
  
I swallow hard and manage to compose myself enough to ask, "So what has happened? Has he got himself suspended again, or has God finally heard my prayers and made him transfer to another precinct?"  
  
I'm relived to hear that my voice sounds just as cool and uncaring as I want it to. I have to watch myself here. I can't risk blowing my cover for something that could very well be nothing. I'm probably just overreacting. That's what I always do when it comes to Bosco, both he and Fred used to tell me so.  
  
She looks seriously at me, "No, there's nothing like that, he called in sick."  
  
I raise my eyebrows with - what I hope is - a nonchalant look on my face, but my heart is beating like a subway train, as I say, "Bosco? Did Bosco call in sick?"  
  
"Yeah, he did, but he's probably just trying to avoid having to be out in this cold," she replies halfheartedly, and smiles faintly.  
  
I want to scream that she's wrong, that Bosco would never do such a thing, but I have a feeling she already know that - and besides, I'm not even supposed to care.  
  
"Yeah, probably," I answer and force a smile on my face.  
  
Monroe twists her hands nervously and stands up, before saying, "Yeah, well I'll better go. I have to get back to work. Take care, Faith, see you later."  
  
I nod. "Yeah, later - stay safe." She nods back and leaves.  
  
I'm sitting on the couch, almost out of my mind out of worry for him. Why did he call in sick? He never gets sick. He's probably just trying to avoid something he doesn't want to do -just as Monroe said - but then again, Bosco would never do such thing. At least not the Bosco I knew, but who knows? I haven't seen him in a very long time - maybe he has changed. So I'm sitting here and staring out in the space, and my mind keeps going around in circles. I know I shouldn't worry, but I can't help it. Suddenly there's a key in the lock, and Emily walks through the door with Charlie in tie.  
  
I look up, startled, because I was so lost in my thoughts, I forgot about the time. I quickly try to look as 'normal' as possible, but it's too late. I can tell by the frown on Emily's face that she has already seen there's something wrong.  
  
"Mom, you OK?" she asks worriedly.  
  
I swallow hard, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, that's all."  
  
Her frown deepens, "What have you done today? You didn't over do it, did you?" she says reproachfully.  
  
I shake my head, "No, honey, not at all. I've been sitting here on the couch all day. Sasha came by and kept me company for a while," I answer, and try to sound cheerful.  
  
Emily looks inquiringly at me, and I can almost see the wheels turning in her head. "So, did she have anything interesting to tell you?" she asks innocently, but I can hear the challenge in her voice.  
  
Damn it! Why does she have to be able to see right through me? I just shake my head, because I really don't trust my voice at this point. Emily continues to look intensely at me before saying, "Charlie, why don't you go and start with your homework?"  
  
He looks up from the fridge, and replies in a mocking voice, "Only if I can eat my snack in my room."  
  
Emily sighs and rolls her eyes. "OK, just go on!"  
  
Charlie turns around, and grins at me, before sticking out his tongue at his sister. I sigh." Charlie! Be nice to your sister!"  
  
He grins again and says, "OK, Mom, " before running off to his room.  
  
Emily watches him leave, and then she turns to me and asks, "What did Sasha tell you to upset you so much? Is something wrong with Bosco?"  
  
I open my mouth to respond, but in that moment Fred walks through the door - of course. "Hi, baby, how are you today?" he asks kindly and kisses me.  
  
Before I get a chance to answer, Emily does it for me. "Mom doesn't feel well today. I was just about to help her to bed. Right, Mom?" she says, holding my gaze.  
  
I can't express how much I love her in this moment. She knows I need to be saved. She knows there's no way I can sit through a dinner with Fred today without ruining everything, and she bails me out. I'm so grateful, I could cry. I force a faint smile on my face, before answering, "Yeah, that's right. I don't feel so good. I think I'm coming down with the flu or something."  
  
Fred looks worriedly at me, "You OK? You don't need a doctor, or anything?"  
  
I manage to give him another faint smile, "No, that's OK. I just need to get some rest."  
  
He nods sympathetically, "You just go and lie down. Emily and I can handle things."  
  
"I know you can," I answer in a grateful voice, and try to get hold of my emotions. Fred's kindness almost gets too much for me to handle, and I can feel myself being very close to tears. Emily senses it, and quickly walks up and gently takes my arm, "Come on, Mom. I'll help you."  
  
She walks with me to the bedroom and waits until I've laid down. Then she says, "Try to get some rest. I'll come back after dinner - when they're watching TV - and then we'll talk, OK?"  
  
I smile gratefully, "Thanks."  
  
She smiles back, "It's no big deal, and don't worry. I'm sure we can sort out what ever it is."  
  
She leaves, and I close my eyes and wonder when I allowed my daughter to become my mother.  
  
***********  
  
"Mom, you awake?" Emily whispers, and sits down on the edge of my bed.  
  
I open my eyes, "Yeah," I whisper back.  
  
She smiles kindly at me, and asks, "Now, tell me, what's wrong? What did Sasha say?"  
  
"She said Bosco hasn't been around the whole week - that he called in sick," I reply, and I can hear the fear in my voice. I really am pathetic to get so upset about something like this. I obviously need to get a life.  
  
Emily looks pensively at me for a few moments, and then she says hesitantly, "Yeah, that's probably right. I haven't seen him outside our school the whole week."  
  
I look at her, stunned. "Does he usually stand outside your school?"  
  
She smiles, "Yeah, he and Sasha park their squad car there almost every afternoon. I guess he wants to check on us."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask quietly.  
  
She shrugs, "I don't know. I guess I thought it would make it harder for you to pretend that you don't care about him anymore. You know, harder for you to hide it to Dad."  
  
I close my eyes. I love her for being so smart and caring, and hate myself for being so pathetic, that she has to. I'm supposed to look out for her, not the other way around.  
  
"I'm sorry," I whisper, "for making you keep secrets from your father."  
  
She takes my hand and squeezes it gently. "Don't worry about it. It's OK. He really doesn't need to know everything. Everybody has a right to some privacy - even you," she says with a smile.  
  
I smile back, gratefully, "Thanks."  
  
She nods, "You're welcome. So what do you think it's wrong with him? He doesn't usually get sick, does he?"  
  
I swallow hard, and shake my head.  
  
"So that's why you're so worried, right?" she asks gently.  
  
I nod again, not really sure I would be able to speak without crying. Hearing Emily voice my own thoughts make them feel more real, and my worry increases with every passing moment. All sorts of images of him, lying alone in misery, without being able to call for help, run through my head.  
  
Emily bites down her bottom lip, and says hesitantly, "Do you think he could have had another nervous breakdown? He's looked kind of distressed lately."  
  
"He has?" I can feel a knot forming in my stomach. I haven't even considering that option, because everybody keeps telling me he seems fine.  
  
Emily nods. "Yeah, and since he can't come to you for help - like he did the last time, he might don't know what to do. I mean, I hardly think Sasha would hold him if he started to cry - like you did. So maybe he prefers to be alone - just in case."  
  
I stare at her in chock. "You saw that?"  
  
She smiles again. "Yeah, I did, but don't worry. I think it's cool that you two care that much about each other - at least now, when I'm not a stupid kid anymore. I'm sorry about how I acted towards both of you before."  
  
It's my turn to squeeze her hand, "It's OK. It was a rough time for all of us."  
  
"So what do you think? Could that be it?" she asks again.  
  
"I don't know, Em. I have no idea what's wrong, and that's what scares me the most. It's not like I can ask anybody either," I answer, and I can her the agony in my voice.  
  
"There has to be a way to find out, without anyone knowing you were the one who wanted to know," she says thoughtfully.  
  
Then suddenly her face is lit up by a big smile, "Now I know! I can call him on his cell! He gave me the number, remember?"  
  
I look skeptically at her, "And say what?"  
  
"I can ask him to do me a favor or something."  
  
"What kind of favor?"  
  
She smiles mischievously, "I think I have an idea. So what do you say, wanna try?"  
  
I nod. It's not like I have much of a choice. I need to know what's wrong, and this is my only way to do that.  
  
"OK, you ready?" Emily asks, and takes her cell phone out of her pocket.  
  
I nod once more, and watch how she hits speed dial #6. We wait in silence for him to pick up. It seems like an eternity to me, but then Emily smiles at me, and says into the phone, "Hi, Bosco. It's Emily."  
  
"No, I'm fine. There's nothing wrong. How about you? You sound tired."  
  
I feel my stomach drop, time to throw the hope that nothing is wrong, in the trash. I can see Emily's eyebrows furrow, and then she asks, "You sure? You don't sound so good."  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, it doesn't sound like fun," her voice is filled with sympathy.  
  
"No, it was nothing. I just wanted to ask you a favor, but if you don't feel well."  
  
"No, it's OK. It was no big deal, really."  
  
"No, I'm not in trouble, I promise," she says and sounds offended, but at the same time she smiles at me and roll her eyes. I have to smile back, although it kind of scares me how good of an actor she is.  
  
"I just needed a lift that's all. I'm going to a party, and it's kind of far away, and I don't want to tell Dad, because he isn't gonna like it." I stare worriedly at her. What is she up to? This part of the conversation I don't really need to hear.  
  
She notices my horrified look, and winks at me. I realize she just making it up, and for a moment I lose focus and want to strangle her for scaring me like that. I don't want her to be this good at these kinds of games.  
  
"No, it's nothing illegal or bad, I promise! But you know how Dad is, with all his Jesus stuff, and things like that."  
  
"Yeah, I know he cares about me, and that I should be happy to have such a great father, but."  
  
"Yeah, I know I should obey his wishes, but I just want to have some fun," she whines and smiles at me again.  
  
"OK, I'll stay at home. I promise," her voice sounds grumpy now.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I swear!" she says angrily, but her eyes is twinkling with amusement.  
  
"You OK?" her voice and face are suddenly filled with worry, and I can feel my chest tighten with worry.  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"OK, I swear, I mean it Bosco. I really do. I gonna stay at home like a good girl. I'm sorry to bother you. You just try to get better now, OK?" she replies regretfully.  
  
"On Monday? Are you sure? OK, see you Monday then," she says softly.  
  
"OK. You too, bye Bosco."  
  
She pushes end, and looks up at me. "Boy, he's almost as bossy as you!"  
  
I can't help but smile. I like that he's bossy to Emily - after all - she fooled him into believe that she was up to something. Not to mention, how happy and proud I am about the fact that he wants to take that kind of responsibility for my kids. Then I remember the real reason to this performance, and I feel the worry coming back with full force as I ask, "So?"  
  
She looks worriedly at me, bites down her bottom lip, and says, "He didn't sound good at all. He said he had the stomach flu. He'd been throwing up all week."  
  
"The whole week?" I reply with a mix of fear and disbelief," has he really been throwing up all week?"  
  
She nods her head. "That's what he said. He seemed to be in a lot of pain too. It kind of hit him when we were talking, he had to take deep breaths."  
  
I close my eyes. Oh God, what's wrong with him? It can't just be the stomach flu. It doesn't last for a week! I feel Emily's hand squeeze mine, and open my eyes again.  
  
She looks kindly at me, "Try not to worry, OK? He said he was feeling better, and that he was going in to work on Monday. He said he would drop by our school and talk to me, so then I can tell you if he's OK."  
  
I sigh, not worry, well that's easier said then done. "OK, I'll try - and, Emily, thanks a lot for helping me find out."  
  
She smiles and winks at me, "You're welcome. It's no big deal, actually it was kind of fun."  
  
"Well, Emily, I can't say I appreciate how good you are at this lying stuff."  
  
"Life works that way, Mom. Sometimes you have to be a good liar in order to survive. You of all people should know that," her voice is hash.  
  
I close my eyes. She got me there.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean it," she whispers regretfully.  
  
"Well, it was true," I answer tiredly.  
  
"Just because it's true doesn't mean you have to say it. I'm really sorry."  
  
"It's OK, Em, don't think about it. Thanks again for helping me."  
  
She smiles fondly at me, "like I said, no big deal. Try to get some sleep now, OK?"  
  
"OK," I reply and smile back at her.  
  
She stands up and leaves the room. When I'm alone I'm starting to worry about Bosco again. It sounded pretty serious to me. I wish I could talk to him myself - or go and check on him, but that's impossible. I just have to wait until Monday and see how things turn out. Now I have to compose myself, and find a way to get through this weekend without Fred getting suspicious. Maybe I can continue to pretend to be sick. I close my eyes and wish I hadn't asked Bos to go away. I don't seem to be able to let go anyway, but this is the only way for me to save my marriage and sanity. There's no other way. I'm doomed to live in hell for the rest of my life. I fall a sleep thinking about Bosco, begging for him to be OK. 


	6. Chapter six

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith_in_Faith  
  
E-MAIL: faith_in_Faith@hotmail.com  
  
DISCLAIMER: Don't own these characters...aren't it sad?  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILERS: Up to, and including season five, and my story "All that glitters is not gold."  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm very sorry...I know it was a VERY long time since I updated, but I got an ugly author's block, and –for some reason I can't really understand- my employer thinks it's more important to work than write fan fic. : )  
  
CHAPTER SIX.  
  
So it's finally Monday. This past weekend was one of the worst in my entire life. I thought I would go nuts out of worry for Bosco. I was very happy that I had physiotherapy today, because I had something else to occupy my mind with, at least for most part of the day. But now I'm just sitting here - waiting for Emily to come home - trying not to go insane out of worry. Finally, I hear her key in the lock, and a moment later, she walks through the door.  
  
"So was he there?" I ask, before she even gets a chance to take off her jacket. I realize I'm acting like I am a lovesick teenager, which I guess is true - at least the first part.  
  
She smiles broadly at me, and says as she shrugs off her jacket, "Calm down, Mom. He was there, OK?"  
  
I can feel myself relax. At least he feels well enough to get in to work, and then it can't be that bad, right? I mean he felt sick enough to stay at home for a whole week. This just has to be a good sign, hasn't it?  
  
Emily walks over to the couch and sits down next me. I look expectantly at her, "Did he talk to you?"  
  
She rolls her eyes, "Well, if you can call giving someone a telling-off like talking, then he did."  
  
I have to smile, "So he gave you a hard time, did he?"  
  
She makes a face, "You bet he did! He went on, and on about how nice and caring you and Dad are, and that I should be happy to have such great parents. Then he told me you had enough shit going on in your life as it was, and that there was no need for me to make it all worse by screwing up my own life. Oh, and then he called me an ungrateful, spoiled child too."  
  
I can see the annoyed expression on his face, and hear his angry voice, and I have to admit it amuses me. "Yeah, he really has a way with words, doesn't he?" I reply, and try to suppress my laughter.  
  
Emily's only answer is a snort, before she rolls her eyes again.  
  
"I'm sorry," I say softly, "you didn't deserve that. Thanks for taking a blow-off just to keep me informed."  
  
"It's OK, I'm as innocent as an angel, but there's no way for him to know that. And don't worry. I've been through worse," she says mischievously, and winks at me.  
  
I raise my eyebrows, "Yeah? Like what?"  
  
"Like you! Your telling-offs are much worse than his."  
  
I try to look stern, "You better watch it Emily! I'm still your mother."  
  
I know she can see the laughter in my eyes, because her own eyes look fondly at me, when she answers, "I know, and I like that."  
  
There's a short period of comfortable silence before I ask, "So, how did he look? Did he seem OK?"  
  
Her eyes flickers briefly, and she takes a deep breath before answering, "Yeah, Mom, he looked just fine."  
  
I can tell she's lying. "Please, Emily, don't lie to me," I'm begging quietly.  
  
She sighs heavily, "I'm sorry, Mom, but he really didn't look so great."  
  
"No?"  
  
"No, he was pale and looked haggard."  
  
I bite my bottom lip, feeling anxiety forming inside. I'm really worried now. Something has to be seriously wrong, but what? I hate this. I hate that I can't see him, or talk to him. I'm sure that if I could just get a good look at him, I would be able to figure out what's wrong – but I can't. I know I have made my choice, but I'm not so sure anymore that it was the right one. He's obviously not doing as well without me as I thought he would. All sorts of thoughts whirl around in my head, but I don't seem to be able to sort them out.  
  
I feel Emily's hand on my arm, and force myself back to reality. "Mom," her voice is gentle, "try not to worry, OK? Don't forget that he's been throwing up for a week. No one would look good after that."  
  
I nod, and force a smile on my lips, "Yeah, you're right. I'm sure he'll look better pretty soon."  
  
She smiles back, as she says, "Yeah, me too, and since he thinks I'm about to get myself in trouble again I'm sure he'll show up at my school pretty regularly, and then I'll report back to you."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"No big deal. I gotta go and do my homework now. Are you gonna be OK?"  
  
"Yeah, I'll be fine," I answer, and try to suppress the feelings of dread and fear rising inside.  
  
*******************  
  
The next day, in Bosco and Sasha's RMP,  
  
I close my eyes, and lean back against the headrest, trying to relax a bit, which isn't easy since I have a lot on my mind. Yeah, well, maybe not a lot. I only have one thing, one person on my mind, and that's Faith. I can't stop thinking of her. I should though, because she told me to go away, and Fred threatened to kill me if I came anywhere near his family again. So it's pretty obvious that I'm not wanted there. I know now that the thing I've always feared the most over the years has happened. Faith finally got sick of my screw-ups and me, and left me. I should been over it by now I guess – it happened months ago, but I don't seem to be able to let go. I don't know why.  
  
Maybe it's because when she said she forgave me, the first time I saw her at the hospital. I really thought we were OK, that the damage wasn't irreparably. She seemed to be able to see a never-ending parade of good marks, marks that seemed to make her love me enough to forgive me for anything. I was wrong. The line for her forgiveness was drawn with me being responsibly for her being paralyzed. It's not that I blame her for it. Actually, I think it's very understandable. She's a hell of a lot better of a person than I am, and I know now - when I can see them - that she has left a whole bunch of good marks on me. They should probably make me worship her for the rest of my life, or something like that, but I'm still not sure I would be able to forgive her either, if it was the other way around.  
  
This thing with the good marks is another reason that I can't let her go. I promised myself that day, at the hospital, that I'd never fail to see the good marks she made on me. I'm intending to keep that promise, even though she doesn't want to see me again. I absently rub my fingers against each other, and look at them, trying to see the good mark she hopefully left there when I squeezed her hand that night all these months ago. I sigh and shake my head. I'm definitely starting to lose it – that's for sure.  
  
I wince slightly when a wave of pain radiates through my stomach. Damn that hurts! I have no idea why it hurts so badly, but it does. Most of the time it's just a dull ache, but sometimes it feels like someone is stabbing me with a knife. I feel sick most of the time too. It's been going on for over a month now, ever since I started to work with Cruz again, and - as if that wasn't enough - last week, I caught a nasty stomach flu. I thought I was going to puke forever. It's better now though. I haven't puked in four days, not that I've eaten much either, but anyway...  
  
Ma says I look stressed out, that I should try to relax and take better care of myself. Yeah, right, that's a really good piece of advice! What she doesn't know is, that if you're stupid enough to relax when you're working with Cruz, you can easily end up dead. She's right though; I am probably stressed out. I have a lot of things to get stressed about.  
  
To begin with: the guilt is eating me up inside. I wish more than anything that I could make this whole mess go away. I know it's entirely my fault. Everybody thinks so, and even though they're right; it's hard to deal with everyday. Swersky acts strange too. He keeps looking at me like he thought I'd kill someone, or something like that. He even told me to stay away from Faith. He said he thought I'd done enough damaged as it is. I know he's right, but it's still strange. It's like he thinks I wanted Faith to get hurt.  
  
And I'm afraid when I'm at work. Yeah, that's right, Maurice Boscorelli is afraid. Actually, I'm scared to death every day. I'm terrified that today's shift is going to be my last. It's a very unnerving feeling. I'm not used to feeling fear at work. I never did before. I knew Faith always had my back, and that she would never abandon me - or let me down. Now it's different. I can't learn to trust Sasha that way, and I definitely cannot trust Cruz that way. I'd be an idiot if I did. I've heard Sully and Davis talk about how it seems like I've finally calmed down a bit. It isn't true – I'm only trying to survive.  
  
I now know that this, along with getting back with Cruz was a stupid thing to do, but I actually have a purpose to do so. I'm trying to protect Faith. I know Cruz hates Faith, but if I'm not totally on the wrong track here, one of the reasons for her hate, was because Faith had me. Because she cared about me, and because that – in the end – I listened more to Faith, trusted her more. So, I figure that if I let Cruz have me, she will leave Faith alone, and then Faith will be safe.  
  
I don't need to worry about hurting Faith because I'm with Cruz instead of her either, because she doesn't want to have anything to do with me anyway. That's good, because she's much safer when she's not with me. I can't stand to see her get hurt again, ever – especially not because of me.... Now the plan doesn't seem so great anymore because I can't handle Cruz. I never have, and now I'm getting so nervous when I'm around her that I feel sick. That's probably one of the reasons to that I feel so stressed out, but if it keeps Faith safe, then it's all worth it.  
  
Just to add to it, I got a new thing to worry about a few days ago. Emily called me when I was home sick. She wanted me to drive her to some party, which she didn't want Fred to know about. She said it wasn't anything bad or illegal, but I can't say I believe her. Stupid kid! I told her off good yesterday though. I really hope she pulls her shit together. She, getting in trouble again, is the last thing Faith need right now. I know she's getting better - that she can walk again, Sasha told me so, and that was one of the best things I've ever heard. It almost made me cry out of pure happiness and relief, and I don't want her to have a set back because that stupid kid can't stay out of trouble.  
  
"Bosco!"  
  
Sasha's voice startles me, and of course that's pissing me off. I turn my head, glare at her, and ask rudely, "What?"  
  
She rolls her eyes. "I'm so sorry to interrupt your nap, but I was about to ask you if you wanna eat."  
  
"I didn't take a nap, I was just thinking!" I answer defensively.  
  
She shrugs, "Whatever. Do you wanna eat or not?"  
  
It's my turn to shrug. "I don't care. I'm not hungry anyway," it's true. I'm not, actually. Just the fact that Sasha mentioned food makes me feel queasy.  
  
She turns her head and takes a quick look at me before turning her gaze back to the street. There is worry and concern in her voice when she asks, "You sure you OK? I haven't seen you eat a proper meal in days."  
  
"And that's your business how?" I reply angrily.  
  
"Gee, Bosco, why do you have to act so defensively? I'm just worried about you. You look like crap, you know."  
  
Her voice is low, and she almost sounds hurt. If I didn't know better I'd think she actually cares about me, but I know she doesn't. No one - except Ma - does that anymore, and she's only doing it because she thinks it's a mother's job to do so.  
  
"Thanks a lot," I say sarcastically, "you look great too."  
  
Sasha snorts angrily, "Why do I bother? You're such a jerk you know!"  
  
For every angry word we utter against each other, both the nausea and the pain increases, and I can feel a cold sweat break out on my forehead. I feel like I'm going to puke any second. I close my eyes, and take a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to ease the pain and stop myself from puking in the car.  
  
"Bosco, you OK?"  
  
There's worry in Sasha's voice, and it annoys the hell out of me. I don't like when she's trying to mother me. There's only one person in the whole world who's allowed to do that, and she doesn't care anymore. I open my mouth to yell at her to stop nagging me, and mind her own business, but when I do, I realize it isn't just a feeling anymore – it's real. I'm going to puke within seconds, and the only thing I mange to get out is a moaning sound meant to read, "Pull over."  
  
Sasha – by some miracle – must have understood what I was trying to say, because she hits the breaks, and when the car stops moving I toss my door open and try to get out. There isn't enough time though; as soon as my legs are out of car I throw up. The pain in my stomach is still bad, but a hell of a lot better than before I puked. Great! I've managed to catch the stomach flu twice in two weeks. I really am a lucky guy, aren't I? The taste in my mouth is awful, and I wonder what the hell I ate last that could taste this awful. Almost like iron.  
  
"Bosco?" Sasha says worriedly, and put her hand on my back.  
  
I take a deep breath to clear my throat, and prevent myself from puke again, but the pain hit me, and all I manage to get out is a moan. Damn it hurts! It feels like someone just stabbed me with a knife. The moan must have frightened Sasha, because I can hear her get out of the car, and walking around it so she's standing in front of me.  
  
I hear here gasp as she crouches down, and carefully touches my shoulder, "Bosco? Bosco, please look at me," there's horror and fear in her voice, and it's wavering slightly.  
  
I wonder how bad I have to look to make her this frightened, but one thing I know for sure; no matter how crappy I feel, or how much she annoys me, I don't want her to be afraid. I carefully open my eyes and stare at the ground. The pavement is red. There's blood on it. How the hell can there be blood on it? Who's bleeding? Has Sasha been shot? Is that why she sounds so afraid? Have I missed noticing that my partner has been shot, because I was busy puking? I quickly jerk my head up to check her out. I feel dizzy, and my vision is slightly blurred, but I can see Sasha clear enough to determine that she looks OK, except for the terrified look on her face.  
  
"Bosco," she says softly, "Bosco, how long have you been vomiting blood?"  
  
I stare at her in confusion. What does she mean? I'm not puking blood. Then it hits me – the blood on the ground. She thinks it's mine. I drop my head to look at it, and realize she's probably right. It has to be mine. There's no other explanation. It also explains the awful taste in my mouth. It tastes like blood. The thought make me feel sick all over again.  
  
"Bosco? Bosco, are you with me?" Sasha asks, with a hint of panic in her voice, while shaking my shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, of course I am. Have you gone blind?" I mutter angrily, as I try to fight off another wave of pain and nausea.  
  
She chuckles nervously, and says, "Now I recognize you. Put your legs back in the car. I'll drive you to Mercy."  
  
I want to protest, but I'm afraid I'll puke again if I try to speak, and besides, no matter how much I hate to admit it – she's right. If you're vomiting blood, you need to go to the hospital. When I try to do what I've been told, I'm overtaken with nausea again, and I can't fight the urge to puke. It happens so fast I don't even have time to lean forward, and I can feel the vomit all over me. I know by the smell, and by Sasha's reaction, that it's more blood.  
  
She's panicking now. I can tell by the way she's desperately yelling in her radio, "55-David to central, I need a bus to this location. I have an officer down. I repeat I have an officer down!"  
  
"Copy that 55-David. Do you need back up?"  
  
"No, no, just that bus, but hurry!"  
  
Great! Now I'm not just vomiting blood, and scaring the hell out of Sasha, but I have also puke all over myself, like a three year old, and everyone in the whole precinct is going to know about it. I can feel Sasha kneel down beside me. She shakes my shoulders, and yells my name. Gee, that woman has to love the sound of her voice calling my name.  
  
"Stop.... it...you...make me.... sick," I manage to choke out.  
  
"Thank God! You're awake," she says, and her voice is filled with relief.  
  
"How...could I sleep when you're yelling my name all the time?" I whisper with annoyance in my voice.  
  
"Sorry," she replies softly, "come on, I'll help you to lie down."  
  
I really want to, because I feel like I could fall over any second, but I know it's the wrong move to make right now. "No, if I move I'm gonna puke," I whisper in response, and gasp for air when a new wave of pain hits me.  
  
"Bosco?"  
  
Here we go again. What is it with that woman and my name?  
  
"Hurts," I manage to get out before the stabbing pain is there again.  
  
"I know, I know. Just hang in there, the bus will be here soon," she says in a way that I figure is meant to be soothing, but it isn't.  
  
I'm starting to miss Faith even more. She knows how to sooth people. Like when I had my panic attacks. Suddenly the air is filled with the sound of sirens. Thank God, the cavalry is here. I really need them now, because the pain is almost more than I can take, and I'm starting to feel pretty out of it. I can hear running footsteps, and then Kim's voice, "What has happened here? Has he been shot?"  
  
"No, but he hasn't been feeling well lately, even been home sick, but he seemed alright today, but suddenly he asked me to stop, and then he just started to vomit blood," Monroe rants nervously. It's more than a hint of panic in her voice now.  
  
In the mean time, Kim has kneeled down beside me, and is checking my pulse. "Bosco?" she asks gently. Her voice is soft and soothing – almost like Faith's, and it's a nice change to Sasha's hysterical behavior. I try to answer, but the stabbing knife is there again, and all I manage is another moan.  
  
"Carlos! Get the stretcher!" she demands, and turns to me again, "Bosco, we're gonna move you to the stretcher, OK?"  
  
"Gonna puke if I move," I whisper painfully.  
  
"It's OK, don't worry about it," she says reassuringly.  
  
Actually I'm starting to reach a point where I don't care. I feel dizzy and disconnected to the world. I know Davis and Sully have arrived, because I can hear their voices as they talk to Sasha.  
  
"Davis, can you give us a hand here?" It's Carlos voice. Then I feel hands all over me, moving me to the side and lowering me to the ground. I'm more than a little surprised that I didn't puke when they moved me. I'm really starting to feel like crap now. It hurts so badly, and Kim and Carlos's voices mix together with Sasha and Davis's, as the feeling of disconnection increases.  
  
"Bosco, are you still with us?" It's Kim's voice, but when I open my eyes to look at her, the only one there is Faith.  
  
I wonder how she got here. Maybe she's been here all the time, "Faith,"I whisper her name, and reach out to touch her.  
  
"No, Bos, it's me. Kim," she says softly with worry in her voice. The picture of Faith's face is fading away, and I can see for myself that Kim is right. She's the one hovering over me.  
  
"Bosco, I'm gonna put in an IV now. It's gonna make you feel better, OK?"  
  
I know that should probably concern me. I hate needles, but I don't have enough energy neither to fight it, nor to answer her. I can feel myself slip away, but Davis' voice jerks me back to reality, "God, Sul. There's blood everywhere, all over him."  
  
The dread in his voice scares me. Blood everywhere? Whose blood is on me? It can't be mine. I haven't been shot. It has to be Faith's. Deep inside I know there's something wrong with that conclusion, but I can't sort things out anymore, and I'm over taken with fear. I try to sit up as I ask, "Faith, is Faith alright?"  
  
"HEY, don't move, Bosco! You need to lie down!" Carlos says sharply, and pushes me back down, but I immediately try to get up again. I need to know.  
  
Suddenly I feel a big paw on my shoulder. It's gently pressing me back down again, and I know without any doubt it's Sully, "Easy, Bosco, stay still. Faith is all right. She isn't even here. She's at home, remember?" he states calmly.  
  
I can't say I do, so I ask again, "Faith's at home? She's OK?"  
  
"Yeah, Bosco, she's alright. You're the one who's sick, and you need to lie down and relax, so they can help you, OK?"  
  
"OK. Hurts," I whisper, and close my eyes again.  
  
"I know it does, but they'll take you to the hospital and make it better, OK?" he answers soothingly.  
  
Then, suddenly, pictures of Faith, lying shot and bloody on the floor appear in front of my eyes. I shoot them open, and choke out, "Shot, Sully, she got shot!"  
  
Sully shakes his head, and takes my hand between his, "No, Bosco, not today. It was long ago. She's at home safe. I promise," his voice is calm and sincere, and I believe him. He was never one to lie.  
  
I try to thank him, but when I open my mouth, nausea overtakes me, and I throw up. Someone is quickly turning me on my side, and I can hear Carlos annoyed voice, "Damn it, Kim, what a mess! We need to put down a G-tube!"  
  
Someone turns me over on my back again, and rudely jerks something through my nose. I gag on it, and I hear Kim's begging voice, "Please, Bos, just swallow!"  
  
I can feel that someone is trying to hold my head still, and I try to get away. Then I realize it's Sully, because he's talking calmly in my ear, "Don't fight it, Bosco, just swallow. They're trying to help you, you know."  
  
I try to do as he tells me, and suddenly the urge to vomit is gone, and the pain is slightly better too. I open my eyes, and look at Sully for confirmation, as I ask one more time, "Faith...OK...at...home, right?" he nods firmly, and answer, "Yes, Bosco, she's at home, and she is just fine."  
  
Convinced that she's OK, and at home with Fred, where no one can hurt her, I allow myself to slip into darkness, because as long as Faith is alright, I don't care what happens to me. 


	7. Chapter seven

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith_in_Faith  
  
E-MAIL: faith_in_Faith@hotmail.com  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own a thing... Never has and never will.  
  
SPOILER: Up to and including season five, and my story "All that glitters is not gold."  
  
AUTHORS NOTE: Thanks to Schmoo and Strange Music for the great shipper- video's that helps me when I'm having trouble with my imagination, and OF COURSE to Joey for correcting this for me : ) and THANKS for all the great reviews! I hope you gonna like this too : )  
  
CHAPTER SEVEN  
  
"Morning, Mom," Emily murmurs sleepily, as she walks past me on her way to the kitchen.  
  
It's just after eight, and Fred and Charlie left almost an hour ago. Emily doesn't start school until ten today. I'm happy for the company because it keeps my thoughts away from Bosco, at least for a while.  
  
There's a knock at the door and I frown. Who can that be this early?  
  
"Emily!" I call out, "Will you get the door, please."  
  
"Sure!" she calls back.  
  
When she walks past the couch I ask, "Are you expecting anyone?"  
  
She shakes her and goes to open the door.  
  
"Hi, Emily, is your mother at home?"  
  
It's Sully's voice, and I feel, the now so familiar feeling of dread, rising inside. Something must have happened to Bosco – there's no other reason for Sully to be here. It must be serious considering that he - of all people - should know that no one in this house cares about Bosco anymore, and still he bothers to come here. I wonder why it's him and not Sasha. Maybe she's hurt too. Maybe they are both dead. 'Faith, pull yourself together!' I tell myself sternly. There's no reason for me to freak out and jump to conclusions. It's only going to make things worse.  
  
"Yeah, come on inside," Emily answers politely. She's scared too. I can hear it in her voice. She has always been too smart for her own good.  
  
Sully enters the living room with Emily close behind. I search her eyes for an answer – but there is none. She looks just as confused and scared as I feel. I shift my gaze to Sully's face. He looks grim and I know –without any doubt – that it's bad, very bad.  
  
I force a smile on my face and say, "It's nice to see you, Sully."  
  
He nods slightly, "It's nice to see you too, Faith. You look well."  
  
"Yeah, I'm feeling good. So, what brings you here?" I ask, and even though I try to hide it, I can hear the fear in my voice.  
  
"It's Bosco," he states simply. Sully was never one to do small talk or smoothing things down, and right now I'm very grateful for that.  
  
"What about him?" I reply, and fold my hands together in an attempt to hide that they're shaking.  
  
Sully is eyeing me carefully, as if to determine if I'm ready for this or not, and answers calmly, "He got very sick at work yesterday."  
  
I knew it. I knew all the time that there had to be something seriously wrong with him, because it is serious. I can tell that by the look on Sully's face. I swallow hard and try to keep my emotions at bay, as I ask, "What kind of sick?"  
  
"He started to vomit blood."  
  
"Blood?" I whisper, and I can't hide my fear any longer.  
  
Sully nods, "Yeah, blood - a lot of it. He even passed out before they got him to the hospital."  
  
"What made him do that? What's wrong with him? Did he get poisoned or something?" I ask, and I can hear how pathetic and scared I'm sounding, but I can't help it. I am scared. I'm so afraid I can hardly breathe. What kind of horrible disease could cause him to vomit blood?  
  
Sully shakes his head. "No, the doctor says he has a gastric ulcer, and that it's bleeding."  
  
"What caused it... I mean why did he get it?" I manage to get out in a strained voice. It's hard to talk because all I want to do is cry.  
  
"They don't know for sure. They're gonna run some tests to rule out that there's some other disease causing it, but they're pretty sure it's from stress."  
  
I can hear the unspoken causation in his voice. He thinks it's my fault that Bos is so stressed out that he has a bleeding ulcer. He's probably right. I don't seem to be able to cause Bosco anything but pain. The thought of him, alone and sick at the hospital – the place he hates more than anything – breaks my heart, and makes me want to go to him right away, but I can't. And besides – he's probably not alone. I bet Cruz is there holding his hand. I feel ashamed for my thoughts. I'm being selfish – as usual. I should be happy that he isn't alone.  
  
Suddenly I realize - really realize - what Sully said. He said that Bosco had passed out. That has to mean he's in a very bad shape. I look pleadingly at Sully, "But he's OK now, right? He's gonna be fine?"  
  
Sully sighs heavily, "Yeah, right now he's OK. He lost a lot of blood, but he's getting transfusions to replace it, and they're giving him medication to help the ulcer to heal. He has to stay at the hospital for a while though, and he isn't allowed to eat anything right now."  
  
I close my eyes and thank God that he's all right. I open them again and look at Sully, who still has a grim look on his face. "That's great, isn't it?" I ask pleadingly, afraid that there's something more to this, something he doesn't tell me.  
  
Sully sighs again. "He's OK for now, but they said that if he starts bleeding again they'll have to operate, and that it's very important that he relaxes and rests a lot. He also needs to find out the reason as to why he's so distressed and eliminate it; otherwise he's gonna get sick again."  
  
I stare at him in silent agony, and try to hold back my tears. My chest aches from the thought of Bos, feeling so alone and worried about everyone and everything that he makes himself sick.  
  
Sully shifts uncomfortably, and I can see fear in his eyes too. He's really worried about Bosco this time. He clears his throat and says in a very serious voice, "Faith, I understand that you're pissed at him for this whole mess. I would be too. I understand that you need to make a point to him that he can't treat you as it pleases him. I understand that. I really do, but it's time to stop now. He needs you."  
  
I swallow hard, and quickly wipe away a couple of tears that I haven't been able to hold back, before answering, "No, Sully, he doesn't."  
  
Sully titles his head to the side, and replies, "No? Then tell me, why is it that every time that you two aren't riding together, he's getting a nervous break down, and I'm ending up trying to take care of him, huh?"  
  
"I don't know," I answer quietly.  
  
"You don't know? Well, Faith, then let me tell you something: That kid is pretty messed up in the head. I don't know why, but I'm betting you do, and - for some reason - he manages to keep it together as long as he's with you, but every time you two mess up your partnership he ends up with a nervous breakdown. I can't help him, Faith, you know that. You're the only one he trusts."  
  
I take a deep breath and try to suppress my tears, as I answer, "Maybe that was true before, Sully, but not anymore. He's moving on."  
  
Sully snorts angrily, "Bullshit! Who told you that?"  
  
I look down at my hands, "No one, but I know it's true. I just know, OK?"  
  
Sully snorts again, and there's anger in his voice when he continues, "He isn't moving on! He's like a little lost child waiting for his mom to come home. You're the only thing he thinks about, and he's letting the guilt for what happened to you eating him up inside to the point he's making himself sick! Come on, Faith, you know I think he's one of the biggest idiots ever born, and that I thank God every day that I'm not the one who has to take care of him, but I don't even think he deserves this. Believe me, he needs you."  
  
"No," I reply stubbornly, "it's not me he needs. He doesn't even care about me anymore." My chest tightens to the point I almost can't breathe because although I know it's true, saying it out loud makes the pain ten times worse.  
  
"It is you he needs, and he does care about you." There's something about the soft, sincere tone in Sully's voice that almost makes me believe him.  
  
"How can you be so sure?" I ask, and try to get rid of the lump in my throat.  
  
The anger disappears from Sully's eyes and his features soften as he says, "He was very worried about you yesterday."  
  
I just stare at him wide eyed, and reply with disbelief in my voice, "About me?"  
  
"Yeah, about you. He was pretty out of it, and in a lot of pain, but all he could think about was you. He was very worried that something had happened to you, that you were hurt in any way. He thought the blood on him was yours. He didn't care about himself at all. All he wanted to know was that you were alright. He couldn't stay still. It took all I had to convince him that you were OK."  
  
My vision is blurry from the tears in my eyes that I'm barley able to hold back. I can't believe it's true - that he really cares that much about me. I take a deep breath to stop myself from crying before I answer, "Well, it's normal to worry about your partner."  
  
A satisfied smile appears on Sully's lips, he knows he has me, "Yes, you're right, it is. There's just one problem -you weren't his partner yesterday. Monroe was, and I didn't hear him mention her name at all - not even once," he replies sarcastically.  
  
I swallow hard, "Yeah, well, he was pretty out of it. You said so yourself, and we were partners for a very long time so..." I answer in an attempt to justify his behavior.  
  
"Come on, Faith," he says impatiently, "you don't even believe that yourself, do you?"  
  
I take a shaky breath and whisper unhappily, "You don't understand, Sully. It's complicated."  
  
Sully is really angry now. I can tell from the way he sets his jaw. "You think it's complicated? Well, maybe it's just me, but when he was lying on a stretcher, in pain and covered in his own blood, desperately begging me to reassure him you were OK, it seemed simple enough to me. He cares about you – more than anything, and he needs you."  
  
I know that if I say one more word right now I'm going to start crying, so I just look at him.  
  
When he realizes I'm not going to answer him, he sighs heavily, and says coldly, "Ok, have it your way. Keep pretending that you don't care about him, but I don't believe you. You wouldn't be this shaken if you didn't, but I want you to think about one thing. You better face it, Faith; he will never make it without you – not in the long run. Can you live with that?" and with that he turns around and leaves.  
  
I bury my face in my hands and start crying, I can't – for the love of my life - hold it together anymore. The thought of him, lying on the ground, bloody and in pain, worrying about me being hurt, is taking down the last of the wall I tried so hard to build over the years. I don't care anymore whether loving him is right or wrong. Sully is right. He obviously needs me. My poor, poor Bos! I don't know what to do anymore, but what I do know is that I love him, and that I don't want him to be sick and in pain. That's not what I wanted to accomplish when I drew him away. I did it because I want him to be safe and happy. I guess I made the wrong decision - again. I can't continue to reject him. None of us would survive that. But through everything I realize that until I've come up with a plan about how to make things right again; with as little damage as possibly to everyone, I need to play my act.  
  
I can feel how Emily sits down beside me and warps her arms around me, as she says, "Shhhs, Mom, don't cry. He's gonna be fine. Just go and see him, and everything is gonna be alright. You heard Sully."  
  
I pull away from her, and wipe away the tears with the back of my hands. It's time for me to pull myself together, and I know that. I force a smile on my lips and answer, "No, Emily, I can't do that."  
  
"Of course you can," she replies, and looks kindly at me.  
  
"No, I can't,"I whisper with anguish in my voice.  
  
"Yes, you can. Don't worry about it. I'm going with you. I'll help you."  
  
"No, Em, you can't do that. I don't want you to miss school."  
  
Emily sighs. I can tell that she thinks I'm a real pain in the ass. "Let's do it after school then. I'll come and get you when I'm done, and we'll go and see him, OK? And don't you worry about Dad. I'll cover for you. I'll just tell him we went shopping or something. It won't be a problem, I promise. You know how much he likes when we're spending time together."  
  
I swallow hard, and try to suppress the tears that are threatening to fall. Emily has to be the sweetest girl ever, and the most loyal daughter a mother can have, but unfortunately that's not going to help. I can't go and see him. Not right now. I have to find a way to sort out this mess before I do. I have to find a way to deal with Fred, because this is not going to be temporary. When I get back to Bosco, it will be for good. I need to find a way to make Fred understand that. Until then I have to stay away from Bosco, because I know myself. If I went to see him now in the bad shape he's obviously in. I might not be able to leave him alone again - ever. That – of course - isn't an option. He doesn't want me that way, and Fred deserves better than that. After all – he does love me, and he would probably do anything for me. If you have any decency at all, you don't just walk away from that kind of love without any warning, or explanation.  
  
"Mom?" Emily says questioningly, and I realize I haven't responded to what she said.  
  
"No, Em, it's OK. I can't go and see him right now. It has to wait."  
  
Emily looks at me like I have lost my mind – which I have, but that happened years ago, when I met Bosco – and asks, "Why?"  
  
"I can't do that to your Dad," I answer softly.  
  
She looks at me with a shocked expression on her face, "To Dad? You can't do that to Dad? You can't be serious! What does he have to do with this? He's not the one with a bleeding ulcer!"  
  
"No, but he had a heart attack," I answer quietly.  
  
The anger disappears from her face, as she says, "It wasn't your fault, Mom. He didn't get it because you weren't around. He got it because he ate wrong and drank too much, and he's fine now. You don't owe him a thing. Right now, Bosco needs you more."  
  
"You don't understand, Em. I do owe him. I owe him everything."  
  
"You're right. I don't understand," she answers with disappointment in her voice. "I didn't think you were that kind of person, who abandoned your best friend when he needed you the most. I thought partnership was about being there for each other – always. At least that's what you used to tell Dad."  
  
Her harsh words make me start crying all over again. She's right, I am a terrible person, but I can't act any differently right now – I just can't. I need to do this the right way this time. I have no intention of abandoning Bosco - far from it! I'm planning on staying by his side forever, but to be able to do that; I need to do this right. I can't afford to screw up one more time.  
  
"Please, Em, try to understand," I say pleadingly. "I'm not gonna abandon him. I just need to speak to your father first. This isn't just about tonight. This is about our whole future. You heard Sully – Bosco needs me to be there for him permanently. And to be able to do that I need to clear it with your father first."  
  
Emily sighs a little, "OK, I understand – I think, but don't worry, not even Dad wants him to suffer to death."  
  
I sigh. I just wish I was as sure about that as Emily is. I close my eyes, and try to will away both the headache I feel coming, and the images of Bos, bloody and in pain, calling my name. Flashbacks from the one time when I was too sick to back him up appears in front of my eyes, and I can't stop the tears from leaking out from behind my closed eyelids. The thing about that day that haunts me the most - except from seeing him lying lifeless on the floor – is the heartbreaking sound of him, desperately calling my name over and over again. It was the sound of someone believing that his very last moment was about to come.  
  
I can feel Emily's eyes on me, studying me quietly. "Mom, please don't cry," she pleads gently, "Would you feel better if I'd go and check on him for you?"  
  
Feelings of relief and hope are filling me. Maybe there's a way to show him that I care after all. I look gratefully at her, "You think you could do that?"  
  
She nods firmly, "Sure, no problem. I'll go over there directly after school. I'm worried about him too. I still think it would be better if you came with me, but this way we can at least make sure he's alright."  
  
"Thanks, Emily."  
  
"Like I said, no problem. But you need to cover for me this time," she says seriously and winks at me.  
  
I can't help but smile, as I answer, "Sure, no problem."  
  
"Are you sure you can pull yourself together before Dad comes home," she asks, and looks doubtfully at me.  
  
I nod firmly, "Yeah, I'm sure."  
  
"Good," she replies and smiles warmly at me. Then her face turns serious, and she asks carefully, "Do you want me to tell him something, or give him a greeting from you? Like a card or something?"  
  
I consider the question for a couple of seconds before nodding my head. A card will be fine, neutral, and harmless, but still a way to show him that I care. Yeah, that will be perfect, "Yeah, I would like to give him a card," I answer.  
  
"Ok, I think I have one in my room that will fit."  
  
She goes to her room, and comes back with a card with a simple, but very beautiful, blue flower on the front side. Inside it's blank. She's right. It's perfect. "Thanks," I say quietly, "It's perfect."  
  
She smiles at me and replies, "Good. I'll go and take a shower now. I need to get ready for school."  
  
I nod absently, and stare at the blank card in my hand. What am I going to write? What am I supposed to say? 'I'm sorry'? No, that's not good enough. That might makes him think I'm only doing it because I feel guilty. I continue to stare at the empty pages for several more minutes, and then it hits me. Suddenly, I know what to write to make him understand just how much I care for him. At least I hope it will. So I write down this one simple line, and then add 'love Faith.' I try to put all my love - both the forbidden and the permitted - for him to feel, in that simple word, praying that he will understand the whole meaning of these few words... 


	8. Chapter eight

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith_in_Faith  
  
E-MAIL: faith_in_Faith@hotmail.com  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own a thing...  
  
SPOILER: Up to and including season five, and my story "All that glitters is not gold."  
  
AUTHORS NOTE: THANKS a lot for all your reviews : D You make me very happy. Special thanks goes to Joey for all her job with correcting this, and to Schmoo and Bee for their endless support!  
  
CHAPTER EIGHT.  
  
I'm not sleeping, but I'm not really awake either. I'm floating around somewhere in-between, and I really like it. I feel considerably good for the moment. I'm not nauseous, and I'm not in pain. There's a lot of stuff attached to me though, like an i.v., and a heart monitor, and that damn tube Carlos jerked down my throat yesterday.  
  
I don't remember Carlos doing that, but Sully told me that's what happened. He was by my side when I woke up. I must have scared the shit out of him with my little performance last night, because he stayed with me the whole night, fussing around like he was my mother or something. If I hadn't felt so crappy, it would have probably annoyed me to the point of where I'd shoot him, but right then it made me feel safe. That was a good thing because I was scared and confused, and really didn't want to be alone. My mother was here too for a couple of hours, telling me a lot of things I really didn't care to hear, but she's gone now too. I know it's terrible and extremely ungrateful of me, but I'm very happy that she's gone.  
  
This tube thing isn't all that comfortable, but the doctor told me it has to stay there for a bit longer. He thinks my body is too weak to puke, and they need to be able to tell how much I'm bleeding. I haven't bled anything in several hours though, and he promised me that if it stays that way, they would take it out tomorrow. I have to wait a couple of more days with the food though. A bleeding ulcer from stress - that's what they say I have. The doctor was pretty concerned about it. He said I need to rest a lot and sort out my problems, otherwise it can get worse again - maybe even kill me. I guess that means I'm going to die, because my problems are unsolvable.  
  
I can hear light footsteps approaching my room, and can't help but sigh. I really don't want to talk to anyone right now. For a moment, I considering to pretend I'm asleep, but curiosity gets better of me. I want to know who has come to visit me. I know it isn't a nurse because she would have started poking on me by now. I open my eyes and spot Sasha lingering in the doorway. As soon as I see her, I realize that Sully wasn't the only one I scared the shit out of last night, because Sasha looks terrified. Like she thinks I'm going to die any minute.  
  
"Hi," I say hoarsely.  
  
"Hi," she answers, and nervously approaches my bed, "How you feeling?"  
  
I shrug, "OK, I guess."  
  
"You in pain?" she asks worriedly.  
  
I shake my head, "No, not right now."  
  
"That's good," she answers with relief in her voice, and sits down at the edge of the chair next to my bed.  
  
For a few a moments we just stare at each other, and then she says, "You scared the shit out of me last night."  
  
"I'm sorry," I reply quietly.  
  
I really am a useless person. It seems like the only thing I'm good at is to get people around me in trouble - or scare them to death. I can't help but think about the countless times I scared the shit out of Faith - or got her in trouble, until she finally had enough and left me. Now it's poor Sasha's turn. I wonder how long she's going to last.  
  
"I'm sorry too," she says with guilt in her voice.  
  
I stare at her in confusion. "What are you sorry for?"  
  
She shifts nervously on the chair, "For not noticing how sick you were."  
  
"Sasha, don't," I reply tiredly. "How were you supposed to know? I didn't even know for myself. This isn't your fault, OK?"  
  
"OK, but please just give me a straight answer to one single question - and no lying," she begs seriously.  
  
"OK," I answer. I have every intention of telling her the truth, no matter what she's about to ask. I know all too well what lying to your partner leads to.  
  
"Did you vomit blood when you were home sick?"  
  
"No," I answer firmly.  
  
"And you would have told me if you did, right?"  
  
"Of course," I answer, but this time I'm lying.  
  
It's a harmless lie though. She feels guilty enough as it is. There's no need for her to know that Faith is the only person I would ever tell something like that.  
  
A flash of relief crosses Sasha's face, and it pleases me. For once I did something right. For once I made someone feel better – not worse. She looks kindly at me, and says, "You know you can talk to me, right? About what's bothering you, I mean."  
  
"Monroe..." I answer warningly, because I'm not going to get into this with her. She can't help me. No one can, and I'm sick of her mothering me and trying to become my best friend. Just because I was stupid enough to destroy my friendship with Faith, doesn't mean I want to have a new friend.  
  
"OK," she replies with a smile. "I can tell you're starting to feel better."  
  
I don't answer because I'm starting to get tired, and I don't feel like wasting my energy on banter with her. She studies me for a moment before saying, "You know now that Faith is OK, right?"  
  
I can feel my heart starting to race from her statement. Why is she bringing up Faith all of a sudden? Why wouldn't she be OK?  
  
"What the hell do you ask that for? Why wouldn't she be fine? She's at home, isn't she?" I ask angrily, and at the same time I feel pain in my stomach again, but I choose to ignore it. I need to know what the hell Sasha is talking about.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, she's home, and she's fine," Sasha, replies hurriedly.  
  
"Then why the hell do you bring her up at all?"  
  
Sasha shifts nervously, "You don't remember?"  
  
"What am I supposed to remember?" I ask.  
  
The pain increases, and I'm starting to feel nauseous too. I shouldn't get myself worked up like this, I know that, but this really scares me. What am I supposed to remember? Have I hurt Faith again somehow and don't even remember it?  
  
"Nothing. It's nothing, Bosco. Just forget I said anything, OK?"  
  
"No way! You can't just ask me if I remember something, and then just drop it when I don't! I'm warning you, Sasha, you better tell me what's wrong with Faith, or I...." I stop and close my eyes because the pain gets better of me, and I can hear the heart monitor beeping furiously.  
  
Sasha puts her hand on my arm, "Please, Bosco, calm down," she begs, with a hint of panic in her voice. "Faith is OK. She's been OK all the time, but yesterday you thought otherwise. You thought she was hurt, and you were very upset about it. Sully had a really hard time convincing you that she was OK, and I just wanted to make sure you didn't worry about her anymore, since you're supposed to rest. Please, Bosco, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."  
  
Great! This is just wonderful! Obviously I made a fool out of myself yesterday. No wonder Sully was worried. He must have thought I'd lost it completely. I try to take a deep breath to calm myself down. I really don't feel so good anymore. It hurts, and I feel hot and cold at the same time. Suddenly, hurried footsteps approach my room, and a kind but firm voice asks, "Officer Boscorelli, what's wrong?"  
  
I open my eyes and look at the nurse who stands by my bed, and answer, "I don't feel so good. It hurts."  
  
She frowns slightly, and bends down and checks the bag attached to the tube in my nose. It's still empty - thank God. I don't want to have to keep it in for another day.  
  
Then she takes my hand to check my IV-line, and her frown deepens. "You feel a bit warm here, Officer. I think you're developing a fever."  
  
Great, this is getting better for every minute. She turns to Sasha, and says kindly, "I think you better go. He's too uptight right now. He needs to rest."  
  
Sasha stands up immediately. "Sure, of course. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I just wanted to check on him."  
  
The nurse smiles, "That's OK. Having people who care is a good thing, but right now he needs to rest."  
  
"Bye, Bosco. I'm so sorry, please try to get better now, OK?"  
  
I nod tiredly and reply, "Don't worry about it. It's OK. Thanks for dropping by."  
  
She nods, and hurries out through the door.  
  
The nurse studies the heart monitor, and then turns her attention to me. She takes my blood pressure, and checks my temperature by sticking a thermometer in my ear. Her touch is soft and comforting, and I can feel myself relax a bit. Finally she asks, "How's the pain now, Officer?"  
  
"Better," I answer tiredly.  
  
"That's good," she replies with satisfaction in her voice. "You're having a slight fever - about 101. That's not unusual with these kinds of illnesses, but I'll tell the doctor about it. He will probably add some antibiotic to your medication. I'm gonna get you something for the fever and the pain, so you can try to get some sleep. You really need to rest now."  
  
I nod, and close my eyes. I feel completely exhausted, and I realize just how sick I have to be, when acting like my usual defensive self, drains me like this. Not to mention that I – despite my hate of hospitals – don't even have a desire to go home. The nurse's footsteps are fading away, and I can feel myself drifting back to sleep.  
  
*************  
  
I wake up by the sound of dishes being banged around, and I can smell food. It makes me feel a bit queasy, but at least I'm not in pain anymore. I'm moving around in bed, trying to stretch out my sore muscles, when the nurse from before appears in the doorway.  
  
"So you're awake, Officer Boscorelli. That's good. There's someone here to see you. Do you feel up to it?" she asks kindly.  
  
"Yeah, why not?" I answer tiredly. I still not feel all that great - but just like earlier today - I'm curious about whom it can be.  
  
The nurse smiles warmly at me, and says, "That's good. Your daughter will be happy to see you. She's very worried about you."  
  
"But..." I try to protest, but she's already out in the hallway again.  
  
What the hell is this? I don't have a daughter - at least none I know about. Wouldn't it be just perfect if some chick decided to drop her kid on me right now? Then I really would have problem, and this ulcer would kill me for sure. I look intensely at the door, dreading what's about to come, and a few minutes later; Emily appears in the doorway.  
  
I can't help but grin, as I raise my eyebrows, and say, "So you're my daughter, huh? No wonder your father is pissed with me."  
  
Emily looks guilty, and blushes slightly as she answers, "Sorry about that, but they said that you needed to rest, and that I could only see you if I was family and I really needed to see you. You said I could call you, or come by anytime if I needed anything, so I figured you wouldn't mind."  
  
I feel my stomach tightens with fear. Now what's wrong? Why does she need to see me so badly? "Why? What's wrong?" I ask, and try to fight a wave of pain without her noticing.  
  
"Nothing is wrong. I'm just worried about you," she answers, and I can see the fear in her eyes.  
  
"Who told you I was here?" I ask more rudely than I intended to, but I'm very pissed with the person who told her I was sick - and with myself too for that matter.  
  
Now she's worried, and she's just a kid. Kids aren't supposed to have to worry about grown ups. Not to mention that I've already caused her enough pain by letting her mother get shot. Fred is right; I'm like a bad curse.  
  
"Sully did," she answers quietly. "He came by our house this morning and told Mom. He said you were very sick – that you could even die."  
  
I consider whether I should kill Sully or not, but the way Emily looks at me, distracts my thoughts. Her eyes are filled with that mix of worry and concern that I used to see in Faith's eyes, and for a moment, the loss of her consumes me to the point of wanting to cry. If I had known what it was going to cost us all, I would have never asked her to help me. I wonder how much it would hurt to die from an ulcer, because the more I think about it, dying would appear to be the most suitable punishment for my stupidity. I close my eyes for a second in an attempt to compose myself.  
  
"Bosco, you OK?" Emily asks worriedly.  
  
I open my eyes and smile at her, "Don't worry, I'm not gonna die. I'm fine."  
  
"Yeah, you look really great," she replies sarcastically, and rolls her eyes.  
  
She both looks and sounds exactly as Faith, and I can swear I actually feel physical pain in my heart. I had no idea you could miss someone this much. I force another smile at Emily because I really want her to stop worrying.  
  
"I'm, OK, Emmy, honestly. The ulcer isn't bleeding anymore. The medication helps. I just need some rest and then I'll be as good as new."  
  
She bites her bottom lip, "You sure?"  
  
"I'm sure. Don't worry, OK?"  
  
"OK," she replies quietly, and then continues in such a quiet voice that it's almost a whisper, "I'm sorry."  
  
Just as with Sasha earlier today, I just stare at her in confusion, and ask, "What are you sorry for?"  
  
Emily avoids my gaze, and answers in a tortured voice, "Well Sully said you got it from stress, and I know you were worried about me..." her voice trails off, and she just looks at me unhappily.  
  
"Emily," I answer gently, "This isn't your fault, OK? Believe me, there's a lot of other stuff in my life that stresses me more - and besides, you're behaving, aren't you?"  
  
"Yes, Bosco, I am," she reassures me sincerely.  
  
"Good for you, because if you don't I'm gonna kick your ass," I reply seriously.  
  
She raises her eyebrows, "Yeah, right! You really look like you're in shape for ass kicking."  
  
I can't help but smile because she acts exactly as Faith. "Believe me, Emily, if you give your mother any kind of trouble, I'm gonna get out of this bed and kick your ass even if that's the last thing I'll ever do!"  
  
"OK, I'm glad you're alright," she answers and smiles fondly at me, "Mom will be very happy to hear that. She's very worried about you."  
  
My chest tightens at her words. I want them so badly to be true, but I know she's just saying it to be nice, and to cover for her mom. "Well, as I said; there's no need for that. I'm fine."  
  
She looks kindly at me as if she wanted to say something more. Then her expression changes, and she starts to rummage through her backpack, while murmuring, "I have something for you - from Mom."  
  
"Yeah?" I reply, and I can't hide my surprise.  
  
Why would Faith send me something? She doesn't want to have anything to do with me anymore. Emily keeps rummaging around in her backpack for a few more moments, and then she triumphantly holds up a white envelope.  
  
"Here," she says with a smile, and hands it over to me.  
  
I take it from her, and carefully tear it open. Inside it is a card with a blue flower on the front, and for some strange reason it makes me think of her eyes. My hands are shaking slightly, and I almost hold my breath as I open it. I can't understand why I'm so nervous. It's not like she's going to jump out of it and shoot me, or something - but still I'm nervous as hell. I read the few words in it.  
  
Don't do that again... Love Faith.  
  
I can't believe my eyes. It's like a miracle. Maybe she does care about me after all. Tears are welling up in my eyes, and the letters get blurry. Embarrassed, I turn my head so Emily can't see how silly I'm reacting, but I can't help it. The thought that there's a chance for forgiveness, does that to me.  
  
"She cares a lot about you," Emily says softly.  
  
I swallow hard, and quickly blink away my tears. "Emily, it's OK. You don't have to try to make me feel better. She has every right to be angry with me. I deserve it."  
  
"You really don't get it, do you? She isn't mad at you at all. She just pretends to be in order to please Dad. The truth is that she misses you just as much as you miss her."  
  
I can't help but feel a twinge of hope. Maybe Emily is right. Maybe Faith does care about me. Maybe she actually misses me too. Why else would she use the words I once told her in an attempt to make her understand how much she means too me. A shiver runs through my body, as well as a wave of pain. I tiredly close my eyes. I really don't feel good.  
  
"Bosco?" Emily asks worriedly.  
  
I open my eyes again, just in time to see a nurse walking through the door. This one is a pretty blond, and when she smiles I can see that she has a dimple on the left side. She reminds me of Nicole.  
  
"Officer Boscorelli, I'm gonna give you some antibiotics in your IV-line," she says kindly, and studies me, then she asks in a serious voice, "How you feeling?"  
  
"Been better," I murmur.  
  
"Yeah? What's wrong? You in pain?"  
  
I nod, and try to ignore Emily's worried eyes. Just like the other nurse did earlier, she checks my blood pressure and my temperature.  
  
"Well, Officer, your fever is rising, and that could explain why you don't feel so good."  
  
"Is it dangerous?" Emily asks anxiously, and I curse myself for not being tough enough to hold it together in front of her.  
  
The nurse turns to her and smiles, "Don't worry, honey, we're giving your Dad medications that will make him better. He'll be as good as new in no time."  
  
Emily smiles brightly at her, "That's great!"  
  
The nurse offers her another warm smile, but then she turns serious, and says, "But he need a lot of rest too, so I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to leave now. You can come back to see him again tomorrow, and in the mean time we'll take care of him for you."  
  
"OK," Emily answers and gathering her things. She throws her backpack over her right shoulder, and then she gives me a mischievous smile before saying, "Bye, Dad. Try to get better now, and I'll see you soon, OK?"  
  
I give her an equal mischievous smile and reply, "I will. You behave now, OK?"  
  
Her smile widens to a grin, "Promise!"  
  
"Good," I answer, and then take a deep breath before saying, "and, Emmy..."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Tell your Mom I won't, OK?" I don't know if it's a wise thing to do, but I feel a need to let Faith know I heard her.  
  
"I will," she answers softly, and I can tell that she knows exactly how important it is that she remembers the exact words. She really is a great kid, and I wouldn't mind being her father at all.  
  
"Officer Boscorelli, do you need me to get you something for the pain?" The nurse's voice jerks me out of my thoughts.  
  
I smile faintly at her, and answer tiredly, "Yeah, that would be great, thanks."  
  
"Ok, I'll be back in a few," she replies, and disappears out into the hallway.  
  
I close my eyes and try to relax. I really feel like shit. The nurse comes back after a couple of minutes, and injects something through the needle in my arm. Then she replaces the bag with antibiotics with one with some white stuff in it. She claims it's food, but I can't say I believe her. I know what food looks like.  
  
Finally she smiles kindly at me and says, "You really have a lovely daughter. You must be very proud of her."  
  
"I am, she's taken after her mother," I answer and try to hide my grin. This is just too surreal.  
  
"In that case, her mother has to be a great woman," the nurse states with another smile.  
  
"Yeah, she's the best," I reply quietly.  
  
"Well, Officer, you look exhausted and that's not good. You really need to get some rest. Why don't you try to get some sleep?"  
  
I nod. I know I need to rest because I can't remember ever feeling this weak before. She smiles kindly at me one more time, and then leaves the room. I close my eyes and allow myself to see Faith's face in front of me, and I can't help but smile. For the first time in months I feel hope. Maybe she really will forgive me. Maybe my problems aren't unsolvable. Maybe I don't have to die in a bleeding ulcer after all. That's my last thought before drifting off to sleep. 


	9. Chapter nine

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith_in_Faith  
  
E-MAIL: faith_in_Faith@hotmail.com  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything related to Third watch...  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILERS: Up to and including season five, and my story "All that glitters is not gold"  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Long time since the last update I know...and I'm sorry, but I couldn't get it right, so this time thanks goes to Joey for correcting this for me, and to Bee and Joey for helping me to figuring it out. : ) To all my reviewers: Thanks for your patience and support! And I'm sorry the Lady I can't promise there will be no more tears...Well, now on to the story ; )  
  
CHAPTER NINE  
  
I sit down on one of the kitchen chairs and close my eyes. I'm tired, and both my neck and back hurt like hell. I've spent the whole afternoon making lasagna. Not so smart, I know. My body isn't ready for that kind of effort yet. Standing for long periods of time is what tires me most, but I have to keep myself busy in order to keep my sanity. I open my eyes and glance at the clock on the kitchen wall. It's almost time for Fred to come home, and still no word from Emily. Charlie came home an hour ago - happy and pleased with his life, the way only innocent kids can be, and I couldn't help but wonder if Bos ever had the chance to feel that kind of innocence.  
  
I hear someone unlocks the door, and then Fred's voice calling, "Hello, anybody home?"  
  
"In the kitchen," I answer cheerfully.  
  
After a few moments he enters the kitchen, and sniffs the air. "Mmm smells good. Is it lasagna?"  
  
I nod.  
  
His smile widens to a grin, "I guess Emily is in a good mood if she made lasagna, huh?"  
  
"It wasn't her, it was me."  
  
"You?" he asks with surprise in his voice.  
  
I nod again.  
  
He gets a closer look at me. "You think that's wise? You look tired."  
  
I smile faintly. "I need do everyday things, Fred – like I used to. I can't just sit in the apartment all day doing nothing. It drives me nuts. I wanna get better, and Emily has been doing almost every dinner for months now."  
  
"I know," he answers and looks lovingly at me. "I just don't want you to over do it. There's no rush."  
  
"I know," I answer, "but I need to feel normal again."  
  
He nods his understanding and asks, "So, where's Em anyway?"  
  
"She went shopping with some friends. She should be back any minute now," I answer. My heart is beating hard in my chest, and my mouth is dry as a desert out of nervousness. Emily needs to come and rescue me very soon because soon enough, Fred will notice how nervous I am.  
  
Fred frowns, "Shouldn't she be home by now? She has homework and she knows we usually have dinner around this time."  
  
"Well, like I said, she should be home any minute now. She knows better than to push it."  
  
His frown turns into a smile as he says, "You're right." He then starts to make the table.  
  
A few minutes later, Emily unlocks the door and walks into the apartment. Fred smiles at me and whispers, "You were right."  
  
I mange to smile back, although I'm so nervous I almost feel sick. Soon enough Emily enters the kitchen. I immediately look up at her. I keep my hands tightly folded together to hide the fact that they are shaking. The shaken look on her face, and the fear in her eyes tells me that he's very, very sick. My chest tightens, and all I want to do is cry.  
  
The fact that neither of us utters one word alerts Fred. He turns around, looks inquiring at Emily, and asks worriedly, "Em, honey, what's wrong?"  
  
Emily shrugs, and gives him a small smile. "It wasn't as fun as I thought it would be – that's all."  
  
"Why? Did something happen?" Fred coxes gently.  
  
"No, we just...didn't get along," she answers quietly, and I can tell she's too shaken to be able to put up this act for much longer.  
  
Fred frowns, "No? What's the problem?"  
  
Emily looks pleadingly at me for help. I look back fondly and ask, "Was it about that boy again?"  
  
A look of relief crosses Emily's face as she answers, "Yeah."  
  
Fred looks at her and asks, bewilderedly, "What boy?"  
  
"Fred, just let it go," I say softly.  
  
"But..."  
  
I give him an 'I'll handle this' look, and ask Emily, "Wanna talk about it?"  
  
Emily nods.  
  
"OK, let's eat dinner and then we talk."  
  
"OK, sounds great," she replies with a relieved smile.  
  
Fred raises his eyebrows and smiles, "So it's a girl thing, huh?"  
  
"No offence, Dad, but I rather talk with Mom about this."  
  
He smiles fondly at her. "Sure, honey. It's a girl thing, I can handle that."  
  
Emily holds my gaze, and I can see my own feelings of guilt mirrored in her eyes. Neither of us wants to fool Fred like this, but we both know we have no other choice. The dinner is a quiet one – pretty uncommon in this household. I'm so nervous I can barely eat, and Emily looks like she's lost in another world. The only one who's chatting is Charlie. He – on the other hand – is thrilled about the attention. When we're ready, Emily quietly offers to clean the kitchen. I firmly declare that I need to go and lay down because my back hurts.  
  
Fred looks worriedly at me and almost accusingly, says, "I told you you'd overdue it."  
  
"I'm sorry. I'll try to be more careful next time," I answer, and I can't keep the annoyance out of my voice.  
  
He kisses my forehead. "Good, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound harsh. I'm just worried."  
  
"I know," I reply, and smile faintly at him before leaving the kitchen.  
  
******************  
  
I keep my eyes on the door the whole time, as I wait for Emily to get ready in the kitchen. When she finally enters the room, the look of fear and despair in her eyes overwhelms me to the point where I momentarily forget about Bos, and focus all my worries on her instead. "You OK, Em?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," she answers, giving me a tiny smile.  
  
"You sure?" I ask worriedly.  
  
She nods, and replies shakily, "But Bosco isn't."  
  
Both her tone of voice and the look in her eyes tell me that she's anything but OK. Whatever she saw at the hospital has shaken her to the bone. For a few moments, we just look at each other, and suddenly I realize that she isn't just afraid for Bosco's sake - she's afraid for my well being as well. She's terrified that I'll break down completely when she tells me about his condition, and that realization makes me feel like an idiot.  
  
How could I've been so stupid that I actually thought that driving Bos away would solve anything? Ever since I first saw him, I've been addicted to his presence. I need to have him around in order to survive and stay sane. How could I ever believe that would change overnight because I told myself it would? I may have had the best intentions, but I should have realized that this wasn't the way to save my marriage. You can't save something that's already beyond saving... The only thing I've managed to accomplish is more suffering - for all of us. But most of all for the two of the people in my life that I love the most - Emily and Bosco, they're both suffering right now because of my weakness and stupidity. Bosco, because I failed to see that he truly needs me. Emily, because I've been such an emotional wreck lately that I've put the mess that is my life on her shoulders, somehow expecting her to fix it. I realize that it's time for me to put my shit together and start acting like myself again - the one that holds everyone and everything together.  
  
I sit up in bed and put my arm around Emily's shoulders for support, as I ask, "Was it scary?"  
  
She nods again, and looks unhappily at me, "Oh, Mom, he's so sick. He was just lying there in bed and he looked so small and...fragile."  
  
"I know," I murmur soothingly, and remember all the times I've been thinking the same thing when I saw him injured. Something about the hospital atmosphere takes all his toughness away.  
  
"He was hooked up to a heart-monitor and there was an IV, and he had some kind of tube in his nose. It looked so uncomfortable, and I don't know why it had to be in there, but there was a bag in the end, so maybe they want to see how much he's bleeding?"  
  
She looks at me for confirmation, and I nod. She's probably right. "Was he in pain?" I can't help but ask. I need to know exactly how much he's suffering.  
  
"Not when I first came in, but later – when we'd talked for awhile - he started to look even sicker, and when the nurse came with his antibiotics, he told her that he was," she whispers in a pained voice, as if she could actually feel his pain herself. "And she checked his temperature and stuff, and told him his fever was rising, and that probably was the reason why he didn't feel so good."  
  
"He has a fever, too?" I ask worriedly, because although I don't know much about bleeding ulcers, running a fever doesn't sound like it would fit.  
  
"Yeah, but the nurse didn't seem concern about it, and when I asked her if it was dangerous, she said I shouldn't worry. They were giving him medication that would make him well again in no time," she answers, but she doesn't seem convinced about it at all.  
  
"You don't believe her?" I ask carefully.  
  
She looks at me with tears in her eyes, "I don't know... he was very pale and tired the whole time. Just talking to me exhausted him. Oh, Mom, what if he dies?" she chokes out between sobs.  
  
My feelings of guilt increase. Poor kid, she really shouldn't have had to go through that. I can't believe how selfish I've been acting lately. At the same time, I feel scared. What if he actually dies? No, it can't happen. I won't let it.  
  
I stroke her hair and whisper soothingly, "He won't die, Em. The nurse wouldn't lie about something as important as that, and he's tough - you know that. It takes a lot more than a bleeding ulcer to kill him."  
  
She pulls away from me, and looks at me, her eyes bright with tears. "You think so? But you heard Sully. He said Bosco wouldn't make it in the long run if you didn't help him."  
  
"I know so, because I won't let happen, OK? I'll help him, Emily. I promise. I just need a little time to sort things out with your father. I'm sure he'll be fine eventually," I reply firmly, hoping for the sake of all of us that I'm not lying. "How about you tell me what you two talked about?"  
  
She dries her tears, takes a deep breath and smiles faintly. "Well, I came there and he said hi, and asked what was wrong since I was there. I said nothing was wrong, that I only wanted to check on him, and then he seemed to get pissed."  
  
"Because nothing was wrong?" I ask in disbelief.  
  
"No, I think he was pissed because I knew - because someone had told us."  
  
I nod in response and swallow hard. So maybe I was wrong. Maybe he doesn't need me after all... but I know he does. He was probably just angry because he didn't want us to worry about him. I know he's always felt the need to protect me, and hopefully that hasn't changed. Actually, it could very well be the reason why he stayed away when I'd told him to do so. His feelings of guilt make him think I'm safer without him.  
  
"Then I told him I was behaving, and that he didn't have to worry about me. He replied that I'd better behave, because if I gave you any trouble whatsoever, he was gonna kick my ass - even if it was the last thing he'd ever do."  
  
I can't help but smile because it definitely sounds like something he'd say, and that's a very good thing. If he acts like his usual self, then he will be OK.  
  
As if she could read my mind her next reply is, "That's a good thing, isn't it?"  
  
Still smiling, I answer, "Yeah, it sure is." Then I give her shoulders a light squeeze to encourage her to go on, and ask, "Then what happened?"  
  
"He told me not to worry - that the ulcer wasn't bleeding anymore and that he was just fine. I told him you would be happy to hear that because you were very worried about him."  
  
"You did?" I ask somewhat terrified that she told him. What if he doesn't care? What if the fact that I still care, disgusts him?  
  
She looks nervously at me. "Yeah, I did. Was that wrong?"  
  
I shake my head. "No, no, Em. It's just fine."  
  
"He didn't seem to believe me anyway, so I gave him your card."  
  
I'm so nervous I almost can't breathe. This is the moment of truth. Her next statement is going to tell me whether he cares about me and needs me, or if he just doesn't give a damn anymore. "So, what did he say?" I ask shakily  
  
She smiles warmly at me. "He didn't say a thing, but he got very happy. I actually think he cried, but he didn't show me his face, so I don't know for sure."  
  
"Really?" I reply in amazement.  
  
Her smile widens, "Yeah, really. He misses you, Mom – a lot. He really does."  
  
I feel my eyes tear up. I can't believe it's true. After the way I've treated him, he still cares about me. I still mean something to him. It's like a miracle.  
  
"Mom?" Emily asks gently.  
  
I quickly wipe away my tears and try to compose myself. "That's great, Em. Thanks. Did he say anything else?"  
  
She shakes her head, and her expression changes to worry again, "No, then he starting to feel worse, and the nurse came and told me I had to leave because he needed to rest, but just before I left he told me to behave, and then he asked me to tell you something."  
  
"Yeah? What?"  
  
"He said, 'Tell your Mom, I won't.'"  
  
"Were those his exact words?" I ask, feeling hope rising inside.  
  
She nods firmly. "Yeah they were. I knew it was important, so I memorized them exactly," she states proudly. "What does that mean?"  
  
I smile fondly at her. "It means that everything is gonna be just fine."  
  
She looks at me with a mix of hope and disbelief, "Really? For sure?"  
  
"Yeah, for sure," I answer firmly, and pull her into a hug.  
  
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, but suddenly, she pulls away and looks nervously at me, "There's one more thing I need to tell you."  
  
"What, Em?"  
  
She looks up at me, and says nervously, "Please, don't get mad, OK? I really had no choice."  
  
I feel my stomach tighten again. Now what? What has she done now? How could she get in trouble just by visiting someone in the hospital? I thought Bos was the only one who could manage to accomplish such a thing.  
  
"Just tell me, and I promise not to judge you, OK?" I answer calmly.  
  
She avoids my gaze and whispers, "I told the nurses I was his daughter."  
  
"You did what?" I exclaim in disbelief.  
  
"I'm sorry. I knew you would be angry, but I didn't know what else to do. They said I could only see him if I was family because he needed to rest, and we really needed to see him, right?"  
  
I sigh. I can't really blame her for this. This is what you get when you force your kids to take care of your own mess. I caress her hair, and say, "Yes, Em, we did, but claiming you were his daughter wasn't so smart. What if his mother comes to visit and someone tells her that her granddaughter has been there - or if he gets worse and they try to find you?"  
  
She looks at me with a mix of shame and cheekiness in her eyes, "They don't need to look for me. I gave them my cell phone number."  
  
I stare at her in alarm, "You did?"  
  
"Yeah, I did. We do want to know if he gets worse, don't we?" she replies defensively, in a typical Bosco way.  
  
I rub my forehead tiredly. God, what a mess! If I didn't know better, I would actually think it is true - that she is his daughter - because her behaviour really reminds me of him. Act first; think about the consequences later – when it's already too late. But just as it usually is with Bos, her intentions are good, and I can't be mad.  
  
"Yeah, we do, but you're not his daughter, and if someone finds out you will be in trouble. We will all be in trouble, and you father is gonna be furious, and what do you think Bosco would say if he knew? I don't think he would appreciate you lying about something like that."  
  
"He thought it was funny," she murmurs.  
  
"He did? He actually knows about this? You told him?"  
  
She blush slightly, "No, but the nurse told him his daughter was there to see him."  
  
"And he didn't deny you were?"  
  
She shakes her head, "No, he played along the whole time. I told you he thought it was funny. He said it was no wonder Dad was pissed with him."  
  
I just shake my head tiredly. Bos is such a kid. I wonder if we'll ever grow up.  
  
"You two really are completely insane." I reply, but I can't help but smile.  
  
She smiles shyly at me, "I'm sorry, Mom, but I didn't know what else to do."  
  
I pull her into another hug and whisper, "It's OK. There's nothing we can do about it now anyway, and I shouldn't have let you go and visit him alone. I'm as much to blame as you are. Let's just hope no one finds out."  
  
She pulls away and nods before saying, "I better go and do my homework."  
  
I nod, "You do that. Thank you very much for doing this for me."  
  
She smiles fondly at me and replies; "You're welcome! Just promise me you'll fix things with him real soon, OK?"  
  
"I promise," I reply firmly, and follow her with my gaze as she leaves. She really is an amazing kid, and I'm very proud of her.  
  
*****************  
  
Once Emily has left, I close my eyes and start thinking. What she said, tells me three things: First of all, he's very, very sick. It takes a lot for Bos to admit to anyone that he's actually in pain, and that really concerns me. I'm not scared anymore though, because the other things she said tells me he's not giving up. He still acts like his old self - at least partly - and I know that's a good sign. Secondly, my attempt to drive him away has failed. He still cares about me, and wants to protect me, and finally, he needs me - almost as much as I need him.  
  
I'm not going to overestimate my influence on Bos. I'm well aware that his whole life doesn't revolve around me, but I'm sure now, that he needs me the same way I need him - except for the love part. He needs me in order to deal with the ugliness of life, and to help him deal with his problems. I'm probably the only one he trusts because trust isn't something that comes easily to him. I'm probably also pretty much the only one, who cares about him - except for his mother, but she's often at the root of his problems - and I just left. Poor Bos, no wonder he has a bleeding ulcer - but this is all going to change now. I'm coming back to him, with no intention to leave his side ever again - no matter what. We need each other in order to survive. It's as simple as that.  
  
I know what to do now. I'm going back to work – as soon as possible, and as his partner. It's the easiest way to show him that I care about him, and - maybe even more importantly – still trust him. The love part I'll have to hide again, but it's a small price to pay for my sanity, and his life. Right now, he needs me to be there for him, and help him out - not dump more problems on him. He needs to know that everything is OK - that I don't hate him, and that I don't blame him for this mess. He needs some peace of mind, and I'm going to give it to him.  
  
Tomorrow, I'm going to call my physical therapist and ask her to increase my therapy. Tomorrow I'm going to tell Fred I'm going back to work – as Bosco's partner. Somehow, I know that's going to be the beginning of the end of my marriage. The fact that that doesn't make me feel even half as guilty and depressed as when I decided to try to drive Bosco away, makes me feel like a really bad wife and mother. But I'm going to face it now, rather than later, because Bosco needs me. Trying to save something that couldn't be saved in the first place will do no good. I feel bad for Fred, though. He really doesn't deserve this, but I know now that there's no other way to go. I've already tried it, and it didn't work. 


	10. Chapter ten

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faithinFaith  
  
E-MAIL: faithinFaithhotmail.com  
  
DISCLAIMER: Nothing of this belongs to me, except for the story idea.  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILERS: Up to and including season five.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here is the next chapter, and to all your kind people who review this; THANKS you make all the hard work with this language worth the effort! : ) and thanks Joey for everything : ) Thanks also to Bee for the brainstorming help and for putting up with me : )  
  
CHAPTER TEN.  
  
I wake up with a gasp, feeling like I'm on the verge of choking. I start to panic because I feel like crap. It's way too dark, and I have no idea where I am or what's going on. There's shit attached to me everywhere, and I try to get rid of it. At the same time I'm hearing hurried footsteps, and someone opens the door and walks into the room. A woman bends down over me, and I can tell by the way she's dressed that I'm in the hospital. She gently takes hold of my arms, trying to stop me from pulling out the IV and the thing up my nose.  
  
"Shhh, Officer Boscorelli, it's OK. Everything is fine, but you need to stay still."  
  
"Get away from me!" I choke out between ragged breaths, but she doesn't let go. Her gentle but firm grasp keeps my arms pinned down at my sides.  
  
"It's OK, Officer. You're at the hospital, and you're safe. No one can harm you here, but you need to calm down, OK? Otherwise, I'll have to restrain you."  
  
Everything comes back to me, and I feel like an idiot. This is just great. Now she's going to think I'm a nutcase. I try to take a couple of deep breaths in order to calm myself down, and say rudely, "I'm calm now. Take your damn hands off me!"  
  
She looks inquiringly at me as if to determine if I really am calm, and then carefully loosen her grasp.  
  
"Thanks a lot!" I wheeze sarcastically.  
  
Another woman appears in the doorway and asks harshly, "Maria, is everything OK in here?"  
  
"Yeah, it's OK. He's just a bit agitated."  
  
"You need me to get the restrains?"  
  
"No, Kirsten, it's fine. Just give me a couple of minutes, OK?"  
  
"You have five," she answers shortly and leaves.  
  
What a bitch! I look up at the nurse, and prepare myself for the verbal lecture I'm going to get for my rudeness, but nothing happens. Whoever brainwashed this nurse into Florence Nightingale, did a great job, because she just keeps looking kindly at me and asks, "Is it hard to breathe, Officer?"  
  
"Yeah, you figured that one out already?" I answer sarcastically.  
  
Her smile widens a bit as she answers, "Yeah, I'm improving, aren't I? Just try to relax, OK? You're safe here."  
  
"What makes you think I'm not feeling safe?" I ask defensively.  
  
She shrugs, "Just guessing. When my husband wakes up like this, he's usually had a nightmare about being held at gunpoint, shot or choked. I guess I thought it was common among police officers."  
  
I can feel myself relax a bit. This isn't just Florence Nightingale, she actually knows what she's talking about too, and it's good to know that I'm not the only nutcase in the force.  
  
"So, your husband is a cop, huh?"  
  
She nods, and the fondness I see in her eyes at the mere mention of him, reminds me of how Faith used to look at me from time to time - before I screw everything up. A wave of exhaustion sweeps through my body, and I feel like crying. I tiredly close my eyes.  
  
The nurse gently touches my hand and says, "I'm just gonna take your vitals, OK?"  
  
I just nod, and her hands perform the - for me now so familiar - task, and then she asks, "Are you in pain?"  
  
I open my eyes to look at her as I shake my head.  
  
"You nauseous?"  
  
I shake my head once more, and reply, "No, I just don't feel good in general. I'm too hot and uncomfortable. Actually I feel like shit."  
  
She looks at me with compassion filled eyes, "I'm sorry. It's the fever that makes you feel that way."  
  
"And why the hell am I running a fever? I thought I had a bleeding ulcer, not a damn cold."  
  
She smiles, "It's just your body's way to try to help the ulcer to heal."  
  
"Incredibly stupid way," I murmur tiredly.  
  
She chuckles lightly, and takes a paper towel from the shelf. She rinses it under water before handing it over to me. "It's a lot smarter than you think. Here, whip your face with this. It will make you feel better."  
  
I do as I've been told, and I have to admit she's right – I do feel a bit better. I just wish my mouth wasn't so dry. I run my tongue over my cracked lips.  
  
The nurse immediately notices it. "How about I'll go and get you a chap stick and some ice-chips?" she asks kindly.  
  
"Sounds great," I reply.  
  
"I'll be right back then." And with another smile, she's gone.  
  
I close my eyes again and try to rest. This feeling of exhaustion is really starting to piss me off. Suddenly, there are hushed voices outside my room, and then the nurse walks back in again.  
  
She puts the chap stick and a plastic cup with ice-chips on my bedside table and says, "There's an Officer Sullivan outside. He says he wants to talk to you if you're a wake. I know it isn't visiting hours, but I can make an exception for your partner, if you want me to."  
  
Sully. Yeah, well, why not? I need to kill him anyway, so this is very convenient. "Sure, but he isn't my partner."  
  
"No?" She looks a bit surprised. I guess her husband is that kind of cop that is good enough to have - and deserve - a faithful partner.  
  
I shake my head. "No."  
  
"But you still want to see him, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"OK, but he can only stay for a couple of minutes. You need to rest," she replies and gives me a very concerned look before leaving.  
  
She pauses in the doorway and says to Sully, who's still in the hallway, "Just a couple of minutes. He really needs to rest. He's not doing too well at the moment."  
  
I hear him murmur something in response, and then he walks into the room. He stops a few feet away from my bed. There's a look of worry on his face. It's strange to see such an expression from Sully - he usually looks annoyed when he looks at me.  
  
"So, how are you feeling? The nurse said you aren't doing so good," he asks anxiously.  
  
I ignore the question and reply angrily, "Why the hell did you tell Faith?"  
  
He sounds a bit caught of guard as he answers, "Considering what shape you were in last night, I thought she should know."  
  
"Well, you thought wrong. She has enough shit going on in her life as it is. She doesn't need to worry about me too," I reply harshly.  
  
"How did you find out that I told her? Did she come here?" he asks with a hint of hope in his voice. It makes me wonder what he's hoping for. Why would he care whether or not we made up?  
  
"No, Emily did. You scared the shit out of her too, and she really doesn't need that kind of stress. She's just a kid, and I've done enough to destroy her life as it is. I sure as hell don't need your help. I'm tempted to kill you, you know," I answer, and my voice is strained with anger and pain.  
  
My stomach started to hurt in the same moment I got angry. If that's all it's going to take to make me worse again, then I'm going to kill myself with my temper – that's for sure.  
  
Sully smirks slightly. "Well, just go ahead. You can borrow my gun if you need to."  
  
I just glare angrily at him, and he sighs heavily. "Look, Bosco, I really thought she had the right to know. You would have wanted to know if something had happened to her, wouldn't you?"  
  
"Yeah, I would, but that's different. She doesn't care about me anymore, and that's a good thing. She's much better off without me."  
  
Sully looks kindly at me. "You're wrong. She does care, and she said the same thing about you."  
  
"Said what?"  
  
"That you don't care. She was sad about it."  
  
I close my eyes. It hurts to know that once again she's hurting because of me, but I really thought she didn't want me to care anymore. I thought that's why she told me to go away. Maybe Em was right. Maybe she's only doing it to please Fred.  
  
"Come on, Bosco. You two need to stop this right now. You're both miserable without each other. Why don't you just make up and move on?" he coaxes gently.  
  
"You don't understand, Sul. It's complicated," I answer tiredly.  
  
Sully huffs, "You two really are a match made in heaven when it comes to stubbornness and stupidity. That's exactly what she said too, and I really don't see what's so complicated. If it would be better for both of you to be apart, then why are you both miserable right now, huh?"  
  
"It really doesn't matter what we feel. I deserve to feel miserable, and she doesn't understand what's good for her. She never has. If she did, she'd have never partnered up with me in the first place. It would be better for her to forget all about me. All I manage to do is get her in trouble or shot," I state calmly, but inside I'm anything but calm. The anguish is coming back with full force, the pain increases and I'm starting to feel nauseous again when the memories from that horrible night overtake my brain.  
  
"Bosco, you need to forgive yourself," Sully says softly.  
  
"I can't," I reply in a strained voice, because it's starting to get hard to breathe again.  
  
"You have to. Otherwise, you're gonna kill yourself. You heard the doctor."  
  
"Maybe I deserve to die," I answer shakily. Damn it's hard to breathe!  
  
Sully walks up to my bed and sits down on the chair next to it. There's worry and concern written all over his face, and he continues to speak in a soft, almost soothing voice. "No you don't. It wasn't your fault. If there's anyone to blame for this, it's Cruz, and Faith went there willingly, didn't she? You didn't hold a gun to her head, did you?"  
  
I take a couple of shaky breaths to calm myself down before answering. "No I didn't, but it really doesn't matter. She always helps me when I need her to – no matter what, and I should have known better than to drag her into it."  
  
"We all make mistakes, Bosco. We're only human."  
  
"But all I ever do is make mistakes. If you have any common sense, you'd stay the hell away from me before I get you in trouble too."  
  
Sully smirks. "Well, in case you haven't noticed, that's what I've been trying to do for years now."  
  
I glare at him, and shakily reply, "Then why the hell do you care now? Just leave me alone."  
  
God, I feel like shit. I really need to calm down; otherwise the ulcer is going to start bleeding again. I know it. Sully seems to have come to the same conclusion, because he's putting his big paw on my shoulder, and says in a calm, soothing voice that I can't recall ever hearing before, "Calm down, Bosco. You need to relax, OK? Just take deep breaths."  
  
Something in his voice makes me want to do as I'm told, and that really has to be a first. I wonder who's losing his mind, me, for wanting to please him, or him, for wanting to take care of me. I close my eyes and try to steady my breathing, and after a couple of minutes I start to feel better. I can breathe again, and the pain isn't so bad anymore, although I'm still nauseous as hell. When Sully notices I've calmed down, he takes his hand away and starts talking again. His voice is still calm and soothing. "I care because you doesn't deserve this, and because I owe you."  
  
I open my eyes and look at him in surprise, as I ask, "Why do you think you owe me? I've never done anything nice to you."  
  
He smiles sadly, "Yes you have. You helped me, when I tried to kill myself with booze."  
  
When I continue to look confused, he adds, "The cabin, remember?"  
  
The cabin. Yeah, that was really something. He even clocked me that stupid bastard, but again, that's not important. Nothing is.  
  
"That? Just forget about it, OK? You don't owe me a thing. I didn't do it for you anyway. I did it for Davis, and besides, that's different," I state defensively.  
  
Sully just keeps looking calmly at me and asks, "How is it different?"  
  
"It just is, and you can't help me anyway. You don't understand how I feel. You've never gotten your partner shot because of your bad judgment and stupidity."  
  
"That's where you're wrong. I have," Sully replies, with his eyes filled with sadness.  
  
"You have? When?" I ask in disbelief.  
  
"Remember the shoot-out, with Chevchenko?"  
  
I nod.  
  
"Davis and I were there to arrest him for assaulting Tatiana's son. She begged me not to go. She told me he was too dangerous, that I didn't know what I was dealing with - I didn't listen. Davis didn't want to go. He kept begging me to calm down and call for back up. I said no."  
  
"You went in without back up?" I ask in amazement.  
  
Sully smiles sarcastically, "Yeah I did, because all I could think of was to prove to Tatiana that I was man enough to take care of that scum. I wanted to show her so badly that she could feel safe with me, that I - the great cop - could fix anything. I totally lost my judgment, and Davis paid the price for my stupidity – actually they both did. So, you see, Bosco, I do know what you're going through."  
  
The pain in his eyes makes me feel uneasy. I look down at my hands, and reply softly, "At least you didn't have to look his kids in the eyes, knowing it was your fault he almost died."  
  
"No, not this time," he says so quietly I almost can't hear him.  
  
I look at him, "Come on, Sul. It wasn't your fault that Davis' dad died."  
  
"It sure felt that way," he answers in a weary voice, and I feel sorry for the guy.  
  
He's right. He does know what I'm talking about. Actually, he's been through the one thing every one of us fears the most. He has seen his partner die. I wonder how the hell he managed to survive. I know I wouldn't have if Faith hadn't made it that night.  
  
Fiddling with my sheet, I ask quietly, "So, how did you manage to do it?"  
  
"Forgive myself?"  
  
I nod.  
  
He shrugs. "Davis forgave me - twice, and so did his mother. I guess that helped, and for some strange reason I didn't want to die, and when I wanted to, you guys didn't let me. So..."  
  
Faith. She will never forgive me. The pain gets worse again at the thought of it, and I close my eyes as a cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. Sully puts his hand back on my shoulder gently but firmly, and says, "She has forgiven you, Bosco."  
  
"You don't know that," I whisper painfully.  
  
"Yes, I do, and if you stop feeling sorry for yourself, and start using your brain, you do too."  
  
'Don't do that again...' I can see the words from the card in front of my eyes, and I know he's right. She has forgiven me, but I still don't know if I'll be able to forgive myself. A new wave of pain runs through my body, and I wince slightly.  
  
"Bosco, you OK?" Sully asks worriedly.  
  
I shake my head and moan. God, it hurts so badly.  
  
"You want me to get the nurse?"  
  
I nod, but keep my eyes closed. He doesn't have to do anything though, because as if on cue, the nurse walks back into the room. "Officer Boscorelli," she asks gently, "What's wrong?"  
  
"I don't feel good. It hurts," I whisper, because it feels like I don't have enough air to speak.  
  
She quickly puts an oxygen mask over my face and checks my blood pressure, and then she looks over at poor Sul, and asks disapprovingly, "How did he get this uptight? I thought I told you he wasn't doing well and needed to rest."  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...we were just talking..."  
  
"It doesn't matter. You need to leave now."  
  
Sully quickly stands up, "Bye, Bosco, you get better now, OK?" he says and shifts uneasily.  
  
I take the mask away from my face, and reply, "I'll try, and thanks..."  
  
The nurse puts it back on, and says sternly, "Keep that on, Officer Boscorelli."  
  
Sully nods shortly in response and starts walking towards the door, but the bitch nurse from before blocks his path. She doesn't let him pass, but at the same time she ignores him as she looks over at the other nurse and asks, "Need any help, Maria?"  
  
The nurse looks up from checking the bag attached to my tube, and answers, "Yeah, escort Officer Sullivan to the door, and then page Dr Austin for me, will you?"  
  
"It will be my pleasure," she answers with an evil smile, and pushes poor Sully through the doorway out into the hallway.  
  
I look up at the nurse, remove my mask again and ask, "Am I bleeding again?"  
  
She shakes her head, and gently puts the mask back over my face again. "No, but your fever is too high, and I don't like that you're in so much pain. I'll give you something for it as soon as the doctor has taken a look at you, OK?"  
  
I nod tiredly, and close my eyes.  
  
"That's good, Officer, just try to rest," she says softly. "Do you want me to call your daughter?"  
  
I shoot my eyes open, and look at her, terrified and reply, "No, absolutely not! She doesn't need to know about this."  
  
"Shhh, just calm down. I won't. We'll wait and see how you're doing tomorrow morning, OK?"  
  
I close my eyes again, and try to take deep, calming breaths. I really don't want to die anymore. Sully – along with Faith's card – has given me hope that things may work out after all.  
  
"That's right, just relax and everything is gonna be just fine," the nurse says soothingly, and carefully pats my arm.  
  
When the doctor arrives a couple of minutes later, I'm almost asleep again. He pokes and prods at me, and then he says, "Maria, keep him on oxygen. I'll change his antibiotics, and I want you to give him both some painkillers and sedatives right away, and no visitors for the next 24 hours. We need him to stay calm and rest, otherwise he's gonna end up on the operating table."  
  
"Yes, sir," she answers, and leaves the room to get my medicine.  
  
The doctor looks kindly at me, "You just relax, Officer. We will help you to get well again, but we could really use some help here."  
  
"I know, I'm on it," I murmur tiredly.  
  
The doctor looks pleased. "That's very good. You just rest now, and I'll be back tomorrow."  
  
I nod, and he turns to the nurse, who's back again. "Just page me if he's still awake and in pain in half an hour, OK?"  
  
"Will do," she answers and then starts to inject stuff into my IV-line. When she's done, she pats my arm again and says, "Night, Officer Boscorelli. Sleep tight."  
  
"Night," I murmur sleepily before drifting off to a wonderful, dreamless, drug induced sleep. 


	11. Chapter eleven

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own a thing. Never has and never will.  
  
SPOILER: Up to and including season five, and my story "All that glitters is not gold."  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: BIG thanks to all of you who are reviewing this :) You make me a very happy person :)I also know some of you want them to meet...in the next chapter, OK?  
  
Special thanks go as always to Joey for correcting this and to Bee for helping me with my author's block :) I owe you guys – big time!  
  
CHAPTER ELEVEN  
  
"Mom. Mom, please wake up." Although the words are spoken in a whisper, they sound urgent and desperate. They jerk me out of my sleep, leaving me with a racing heart and a feeling of dread inside.  
  
I open my eyelids and find myself staring into Emily's frighten eyes. "Emily, what's wrong?" I whisper worriedly.  
  
"It's the hospital on the phone. The nurse says she needs to talk to my guardian," she replies shakily.  
  
I'm still groggy from waking up so suddenly, and my brain doesn't understand why someone from the hospital would call my daughter, especially not since we're all at home safe and sound. Emily notices my confusion, and by whispering just one simple word, she brings the world - with all its ugliness - back to me, "Bosco."  
  
The fear I'm feeling once realizing that something has to be wrong, makes me so afraid that I almost can't breathe. I realize that this phone call could mean that it's all over - that we've lost him. I quickly jolt out of bed, almost falling over in the process because my balance isn't good enough yet for these kind of sudden movements. Emily catches me before I hit the floor and helps me onto my feet. Fred stirs in bed and sleepily murmurs my name.  
  
"It's OK, Fred," I whisper soothingly, "I just need to go to the bathroom." He turns on his other side and starts to snore again. Both Emily and I sigh a sigh in relief and quietly leave the room.  
  
When we reach the kitchen, Emily picks up her cell phone from the kitchen counter and hands it over to me. I glance over at the clock on the wall, 6:30 on a Saturday morning. It can't be anything but bad news. My hands are shaking slightly as I put the phone to my ear. "Yeah?"  
  
"Hello, this is nurse Anderson at Mercy hospital, am I speaking to Mrs. Boscorelli?"  
  
"Um, no. My name is Faith Yokas," I answer, and my heart is pounding so hard in my chest it almost feels like it's going to pop out.  
  
"But I am talking to Emily's guardian, aren't I?" the nurse asks, sounding a bit confused.  
  
"Yeah," I reassure her. "I'm her mother."  
  
"Good." There's relief in her voice, and for some reason it makes me feel even more scared.  
  
"Well, the reason that I called is that her Dad - Officer Boscorelli's, condition has changed for the worse, and since Emily is a minor, we didn't think it was appropriate to tell her. We usually try to speak to an adult about these kind of things."  
  
I swallow hard and reply, "It's fine, I understand. In what way is he worse?"  
  
I look up and meet Emily's gaze. Her eyes are wide with fear and I'm silently praying that the nurse isn't about to tell me Bos is dying.  
  
"Last night, he started to feel nauseous again, and he was in a lot of pain. He's also developing a high fever and even some shortness of breath."  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
"Well the fever is a normal reaction to try to help the ulcer to heal again, but in Officer Boscorelli's case, it has gotten a bit out of hand. We think the breathing difficulties are stress related. He's very fragile at the moment, which brings me to the next issue. Emily can't come and visit him for the next couple of days or so. The doctor has ordered no visitors for at least the next 24 hours."  
  
"I see," I answer hoarsely because my mouth is dry and I'm struggling hard not to cry. I take a deep breath to pull myself together enough to be able to ask the question, the answer to which I fear more than anything.  
  
"Exactly how serious is this? Is he going to get well again?"  
  
"Right now, there's nothing indicating anything else. The good thing is that the ulcer hasn't started bleeding again, and the doctor is doing everything to help him. He's changed and increased his medical therapy, and the most important thing right now, is to keep his stress level as low as possible. But if nothing else happens to worsen his condition, then I'm sure he's going to start feeling better very soon," she says reassuringly.  
  
I close my eyes and thank God for being merciful, before replying, "That's a relief. Emily has been very worried about him."  
  
"That's very understandable. There's just one more thing I'll have to ask, and then I'll let you get back to what you were doing."  
  
Yeah, sure, like I would be able to get back to sleep after this scare.  
  
"Is Emily living with her father?"  
  
"No, she's living with me and my husband. Why?" I ask defensively, afraid that something has happened to make them understand that Emily was lying.  
  
There's a hint of relief in the nurse voice when she continues. "That's good. You have to forgive me for asking, but we were worried she was living with him, and that someone was taking care of her on temporary basis. Then Officer Boscorelli might would be worrying about her well-being, and it's important that he isn't exposed to any kind of stress right now."  
  
"I understand, but that's not a problem. She's living with me, and if you don't mind I'd prefer if you didn't call here again - unless he's dying. We aren't really on speaking terms right now, and my husband...."  
  
"Don't worry I understand completely. I assume his Mother will fill you in about his condition if needed, and Emily can call here whenever she wants to check on him," she replies kindly.  
  
"Thanks," I answer weakly, feeling like a really bad person for lying to these nice people. I can't really complain, though. It was my cowardliness that got me into this awkward position in the first place; and it's like Emily said, I'm really good at lying.  
  
"You're welcome, Mrs. Yokas."  
  
"Thanks again, and tell him we both send our love."  
  
"I will. Bye, Mrs. Yokas," she replies warmly.  
  
"Bye," I answer absently and hang up.  
  
"Mom," Emily asks anxiously, and looks at me with big, terrified eyes.  
  
"He's worse," I answer calmly in an attempt not to scare her any further.  
  
"Oh no," she whispers painfully. "Is he gonna die?"  
  
"No, honey, he isn't. The nurse said he'd be fine eventually, because they have increased is medication, but right now he isn't doing so good. They wanted to know if you lived with me because they didn't want him to worry about you - or anything else – right now. She even said that no one could come and visit him for at least the next 24 hours."  
  
"Poor Bosco," Emily says with tears in her eyes. "You have to help him, Mom. You have to help him now."  
  
I pull her into my embrace and whisper soothingly, "I will, Emily, I will." Because I will, I'm going to talk to Fred, and I'm going to do it tonight.  
  
"I can't believe I heard you right. You can't be serious," Fred says calmly, and stares at me, his eyes filled with mixed emotions.  
  
There's confusion, fear, anger and hurt, and I can feel my chest tighten. This isn't easy for me to do because on some level, I still love Fred. We have had more good times than bad. We have two wonderful children together, and the last thing I want to do is hurt him. But right now, that's exactly what I'm doing and it hurts me, too. Sometimes I can't understand why I always have to choose between Bosco and Fred. I wish there was a way to keep them both, but I know there isn't.  
  
If someone had told me a year ago that I would choose Bos over Fred, I'd have thought they were completely insane, but here I am, doing it all the same. I'm well aware of the fact that I'm probably making the biggest mistake of my life, but I have no choice anymore. I can't sacrifice Bosco's life to save my marriage. I just can't, and the truth is Bosco doesn't just need me. I need him, too - probably even more than he needs me. I feel lost without him. I feel like I'm not in control of anything anymore. I need him to lean on. I need him to keep me grounded. I need him to take care of, because then I won't have to deal with my own messy life. I can't live without him. Suddenly, Fred's annoyed voice jerks me out of my thoughts.  
  
"If you're gonna dump shit like this on me the least you can do is to listen when I talk!"  
  
I look up at him. "I'm sorry, Fred."  
  
"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you?" he replies accusingly, his voice rising slightly.  
  
"I'm so sorry," I answer, feeling guilty.  
  
"Why, Faith? Why?"  
  
"It's my work, Fred. That's what I do. That's who I am."  
  
He stares at me, and I can tell that anger is the feeling that's going to win out.  
  
"I can't believe you're saying this. How can your work be more important to you than your family?"  
  
"It isn't, but we need the money."  
  
Fred snorts. "Find something else to do. I can't believe you're actually considering going back to a job that almost got you killed. Don't you care about us at all? Do you really want our kids to grow up without a mother?"  
  
"Of course I don't want them to grow up without a mother, but life isn't that simple, Fred. Life is unpredictable. I can get killed on the subway on my way home, there's no guarantees for anything."  
  
He looks at me. There's still anger in his eyes, but also sadness and realization. He's starting to realize that I'm right – at least partly – and that this isn't a fight he's going to win. I can tell he's going to cave eventually, but suddenly there's a glimpse of suspicion in his eyes. He asks, "But you're at least gonna get a new partner, right? You're not gonna ride with Bosco anymore, right?"  
  
OK, here we go. This is it. Now he's really going to get angry.  
  
"Yes, I am," I answer, and it surprises me to hear how calm and confident I'm sounding.  
  
Fred immediately stands up and practically yells, "Are you out of your mind? I told you both that I don't want him anywhere near my family again, and I meant it!"  
  
"I know that, Fred, but there's nothing to discusses here. I'm going back to work, and I'm doing it as Bosco's partner. End of discussion."  
  
He stares angrily at me. "Over my dead body!" he yells. "Or more likely, your dead body," he continues more calmly with a mean smirk on his lips.  
  
I wince like he's hit me, and he might as well have done so. I can't believe he just said something so mean as that. "Fred, that isn't fair," I reply quietly.  
  
"No? Do you think it's fair that I'm gonna lose my wife because she can't stay away from her fucked up, loser partner of hers, huh?"  
  
"Fred, please. Bosco has never hurt me," I try to reason with him.  
  
"No, maybe not in person, but you got hurt because you tried to save his sorry ass – as always. His actions got you in trouble, and he's always in trouble – one way or another – so it's just a matter of time before it happens again."  
  
"Fred, please...."  
  
He immediately cuts me off, and says warningly, "And don't you dare tell me that he needs you!"  
  
"No, Fred," I state calmly. "He doesn't need me. I need him."  
  
"What?" he exclaims in disbelief.  
  
"It's true, Fred. You see being a cop is all about trust. You need to be able to trust your partner, to feel safe around him."  
  
"How the hell can you feel safe around him? He got you shot!" he yells in frustration.  
  
I feel sorry for him. There's no way he'll ever be able to understand this – especially considering he can't see the whole picture. He doesn't have a clue that the main reason that I trust Bos, is because I love him. In my heart I know - that on some level - he loves me enough to do anything in his power to keep me safe. He'd rather die himself than let me get hurt. I saw it in his eyes when he held me the night I got shot, and it scares me that I don't feel even the slightest bit of guilt for keeping that part from Fred.  
  
"How many times do I have to tell you? It wasn't his fault! And he knows me, Fred - better than anyone else in the force. He knows how I think and react. He knows the exact moment I can't handle it any more and needs back up. If I don't ride with him I have to break in a rookie, and since he doesn't know first thing about me my chances of getting killed increase dramatically. Believe me, Fred, me riding with Bosco is your best chance to get me home in one piece."  
  
Fred looks defeated. He isn't stupid. He knows I'm right. He just doesn't want to admit it. He runs his hand over his head in frustration and murmurs, "I can't believe this... I need to clear my head. I'm going for a walk."  
  
"Fred..." I say pleadingly.  
  
He puts his hands up in the air. "Just leave me alone!" With a loud 'BANG' from the door, he's gone.  
  
I close my eyes and sigh. Light footsteps approaching the couch, and then Emily pops down beside me.  
  
"Mom, you OK?" she asks softly with worry in her voice.  
  
I open my eyes again and smile tiredly at her. "Yeah, I'm fine."  
  
Emily sighs lightly. "He didn't take it well at all, did he?"  
  
"No, not really," I murmur.  
  
We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, but then Emily looks over at me and asks hesitatingly, "Do you really have to go back to work? Can't you just help Bosco out anyway? Can't you just be his friend in general, or something?"  
  
"No, Em," I answer softly, "I can't. There's nowhere Bosco needs me more than at work. Work is the place where life is hardest on him. Work is the thing that causes him the most stress. Work is his life. If I'm gonna be able to help him, I need to be his partner at work."  
  
"But you want to get back too, don't you? You would have gone back to work even if Bosco had been all right, wouldn't you?  
  
"Yeah," I answer quietly, starting to feel uneasy. For some strange reason, I have a feeling that this conversation is going to lead to a disaster.  
  
She looks inquiring at me. "Why?"  
  
"Because that's what I do. It's important to me," I answer simply.  
  
"More important than us?" she asks in a small, abandoned voice.  
  
I sigh heavily, feeling like a really bad mother. I don't want my kids to think that they are less important to me than my work. Nothing is more important to me than them – not even Bos. Maybe Fred was right. Maybe all I do is make their lives a living hell by letting them feel like they don't matter.  
  
"No, Emily. You're more important to me than anything, but work is important to me too, because it's a part of who I am. If something happened to you or Charlie, and I couldn't be your mother anymore, I would be devastated. I'd feel lost - like I was half a person. And I feel a little bit like that right now. Not being a cop anymore makes me feel a bit lost – like a part of me is missing. I need both parts to feel whole – to feel like me. Do you understand?"  
  
She nods slowly. "Yeah, I think I do."  
  
There's a short silence before she speaks again. "Bosco is a part of you, too, isn't he? You feel lost without him, don't you?"  
  
I smile softly. "Yeah, I guess I do."  
  
I realize way too late that that answer was a mistake. The new connection between Emily and me, together with the fact that she has been very understanding about me missing Bosco so much, is fooling me into let my guard down. I let her see right into my soul, and that's a horrible mistake. I forget that this new connection not only makes her understand me, it also allows her to see the truth, and she doesn't like it. She's always been a daddy's girl, and when it comes down to it, she's choosing him.  
  
"But Dad isn't important to you, right? He isn't a part of who you are, is he?" she asks accusingly.  
  
"Em, I never said he wasn't," I answer pleadingly.  
  
"Maybe not, but it isn't so hard to figure out. You mentioned work, Charlie and me, and Bosco... but not Dad."  
  
"You're the one who mentioned Bosco," I reply, in an attempt to defend myself.  
  
She smirks, "I just said it out loud. He's on your mind all the time, isn't he?"  
  
"Emily, please... it's not what you think it is."  
  
"How do you know what I think?"  
  
She has me there. I had to admit that. I can't know for sure what she's thinking, but I fear the worst.  
  
She looks coldly at me, her eyes filled with anger, disappointment and realization. "You love him, don't you?"  
  
I just nod, there's no point in lying. With this new connection between us, she would just see through me anyway, and after all she's done for Bos and me, after all we've put her through, she deserves the truth.  
  
She just stare at me for the longest time, and then she says with a voice that's trembling with anger and disgust, "The child you aborted, was it his?"  
  
I stare at her in horror, "God no, Emily! Of course not, it is nothing like that. We have never... he... I...." I'm too shaken to even form a sentence that makes sense. I can't believe she actually thinks I would cheat on Fred like that.  
  
Again her eyes are filled with realization. "He doesn't love you back, does he?"  
  
I shake my head, trying hard not to make everything worse by starting to cry.  
  
Again she just looks at me for what seems like an eternity. Her eyes are cold as ice, and they are never leaving mine. I can't make myself to look away. I feel that I at least owe her to look her in the eyes when I destroy the last of her innocence. Finally, she looks away for a second, and when she turns her head to look at me again the anger in her eyes is gone, although the disappointment remains.  
  
She sighs. "You don't have to worry. I'm not gonna tell Dad. I'm not gonna be the one who breaks his heart, and I'm not that selfish that I'd rather see Bosco die than let you be with him. He's obviously stupid enough to think he needs a lying, cheating person like you, but you know what? I'm happy he doesn't love you back. You deserve to suffer for doing this to Dad - for betraying us all!"  
  
And with that last statement she walks away, and for the second time that night, I hear the apartment door close with a 'BANG'. I put my head in my hands and sigh, knowing that I probably have managed to destroy my relationship with both my daughter and husband in the same evening. I hate myself for who I am, and for what I'm doing to the people I'm supposed to love, but here's no turning back now. This time, I'm choosing Bosco, but I can't help wondering why loving him has to be totally incompatible with loving my family. 


	12. Chapter twelve

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith-in- Faith  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own this characters at all, just playing around....  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILERS: Up to and including season five.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This time I have a lot of people to thank. First on my list is **Joey,** who has put in an awful lot of time to make me better. You're the best beta-reader a girl can have!  
  
Then it's **Sandy,** who has been kind enough to look through all her tapes to give me the quotes I needed for this chapter, and **Bee** for helping me with the shipper POV on the words. : )

But also to **Schmoo **who's shipper video's are giving me inspiration to write and an opportunity to see the scenes, since we haven't seen that eppi over here yet.

And finally **Mad4JnJ **from 3rdwatch.net, who was kind enough to let me borrow her thoughts from the thread "To many looks on Jason." So as you see, if you like this chapter, it's not because of me – it's because of them. : )  
  
CHAPTER TWELVE  
  
I sit at the table in the restaurant I've chosen for our reunion, nervously playing with the straw in my soda. There're several reasons why I chose this restaurant. It's small and quiet, not many people we know come here, and finally; I know Bos loves it. I've longed for this moment for so long. To finally be able to see him...I can hardly believe it's true. I just wish I wasn't feeling so nervous. The thought of Bos, not to mention his presence, usually makes me feel safe and happy - but not today. Today I'm just nervous as hell. I'm afraid that he can't forgive me for trying to drive him away. I'm afraid he doesn't want me back.  
  
I wonder how he's doing. He's been out from the hospital for almost two months now, and he's back at work and everything, but Emily says he still looks kind of sick. I never went to see him at the hospital. After that scary, early morning phone call, he slowly started to get better, and Emily didn't want me to go there and spoil everything by upsetting him again. She's very protective of him. She's really pissed with me - actually I think she hates me. That's OK, though, because right now she's one of Bosco's biggest fans. She thinks he's too good for me. She's convinced that I've messed with his head, because he thinks he needs to be with me. She keeps saying that if she didn't think that it would kill him, she'd tell him the truth about what a lying bitch I am. Such statements almost make me happy that he had a bleeding ulcer...but it's good that she cares about him, because that means I get to know how he's doing. That's about to change now, though. Soon I'll be back at work, and then I'll be able to see him every day. That's such a relief, because I'm going nuts without him.  
  
Suddenly, he walks through the door, and I feel my whole body go weak. I'm having a hard time believing my eyes. I can't believe it's true, that after all these months, he's standing here in front of me. But the way he looks takes some of the happiness away. Emily is right; he looks ill. He's pale and looks very tired, and I can tell that he's lost weight since I last saw him. His cheek bones are more visible beneath his skin, and it makes me want to take him home to feed him, and care for him until he looks like he used to. I can't help but wondering if he really is OK, or if what he needs is to go back to the hospital.  
  
He leans in over the table, looks inquiringly at me and says, "I'm kind of surprised you called."  
  
And then I know I've lost him, probably for good, because there's nothing in his eyes - no anger, no sadness, and no affection – just plain nothing. I can't read him anymore. He has locked the door, like he always does in order to protect himself from getting hurt. It's nothing new. It's always been that way. The difference is that this time he's locking _me _out, and I have no idea where to find the key, because I've never needed one before. He has always trusted me enough to let me look into his soul - but not anymore. He's afraid that I'm going to hurt him. I realize that the wound I caused him when I tried to drive him away probably won't heal. I have lost him. I feel like crying. I can't believe that he's afraid of me - that he actually thinks I'm going to hurt him. I want to tell him that everything's OK, and that I'll never hurt him - or leave him alone - again. I want to touch his face and tell him that I love him, but I can't.  
  
So instead, I take a deep breath and say causally, "I'm coming back tomorrow."  
  
He slides down in the both across from me, and answers, "Really?"  
  
His voice doesn't hold any emotion whatsoever, but still I have some hope, because I saw something in his eyes when I said I was coming back. I'm not sure what it was, but it looked like a glimmer of hope. Maybe he actually misses me, even if he's afraid of me.  
  
"Yeah, the department doctors said there's no medical reason why I couldn't," I answer calmly, and continue to fiddle with my straw to hide the fact that my hands are shaking.  
  
"So, you're all right?" he asks, gazing intensely at me. I wish, more than anything, that I could read him like I used to, but he's not letting me in.  
  
"According to the doctors," I answer, and I can't hide my insecurity.  
  
I'm not so sure I'm all right. I still have this pain in my neck, but what bothers me the most, is that I feel like I could suffer a mental breakdown at any given time. Sometimes I just feel like crying for no reason at all, and the thought of getting back on the streets scares the shit out of me. But I'm hoping that being back with Bos will return my sanity and confidence. He's my strength, my rock. He's the one who chases all the ghosts away. He's the one who makes me feel safe and cared for, and that hasn't changed. He still has that power. I know that for sure when he speaks again. Because, although his eyes still hold no emotions, there's genuine concern and worry in his voice, and it makes me feel like I'm finally home.  
  
"So, you're not all right?"  
  
I shrug, and try to sound as confident as possible when I speak. "The city wants me to go for counseling, but I don't want to have that in my file. So if they say I'm ready to come back...I'm ready to come back."  
  
He doesn't buy it, instead he sounds even more worried, as he replies, "But if you're not really better...."  
  
"Bosco," I quickly cut him off, "I want you to ask Swersky to put us back together."  
  
I fight hard not to show him how badly I want this. I try to sound like it was a completely normal thing to ask for, although I know it probably was the last thing he expected me to say.  
  
"Oh, you do," he answers, and blinks his eyes the way he only does when he gets nervous. He continues to stare at me, and I can tell that he's trying to read me. The same way I've been trying to read him through the whole conversation.  
  
I do my best to remain unreadable, by quickly pushing my love for him back to a corner of my soul, where he can't see it. I can't help but feel sorry for him. Because, although he sounds like he doesn't care, I saw a glimpse of terror I his eyes when I told him.  
  
I don't know why he's so scared, but I wish he wasn't. I'm doing this for him, and there's nothing to be afraid of. It's just him and I – together. The way it always has been. The way it always should be. But deep inside, I know exactly what he's afraid of, because I share the same fear. The fear that what has happened between us has ruined everything, the fear that things are never going to be the same again.  
  
I try to sooth both our pain and fears as I softly reply, "If I'm coming back, I'm coming back all the way."  
  
"I thought you wanted me out of your life."  
  
Hearing him saying those words makes it hard to breathe, and although I knew all along that what I said and did hurt him, I never really understood just how much - until now. Sitting here, looking into his eyes, emptied from all emotions, hearing his monotonous voice, kills me. Knowing him as well as I do - in spite of everything - makes me realize just how hard it is for him to act like this.  
  
I know, that deep down inside, all sorts of feelings are eating him up. I know it because those feelings put him in the hospital with a bleeding ulcer. I know it because someone with such a total lack of emotions that he seems to be now, are dead inside, and if he was dead inside he would never have made it out from the hospital.  
  
So I know he's suffering, and once again, I try to sooth the pain I can't see - but still know is there - by speaking softly, "All the way."  
  
He doesn't answer, just keeps staring at me with emotionless eyes. Not being able to read him like I used to, is starting to get on my nerves. Suddenly, his cell phone rings, and I almost feel relieved. He takes it out of his pocket, checks it, and says, "I need to."  
  
"We're almost done here," I reply, and take a sip of my drink. For the first time in my life, I feel really uncomfortable around him.  
  
I watch him as he speaks in his phone, thinking about how much I love him and how tired he looks. I can't help but feel a twinge of worry. Maybe he still isn't well. Maybe he needs to see a doctor.  
  
I'm debating with myself whether or not I should bring up the issue when he hangs up the phone, looks over at me and says tiredly, "It's the occb detectives...."  
  
"Go," I answer shortly, desperately trying to hide how much this distance between us is hurting me.  
  
He looks inquiring at me, and there's worry in his voice as he asks once more, "You sure you're OK?"  
  
I nod and motion with my hand toward the door, as I repeat, "Go."  
  
I watch him walk away, and swallow hard in an attempt to stop myself from crying. I suddenly realize that I never asked him if he's all right. I swallow hard again and quickly stand up, softly calling his name, "Bos...."  
  
"Yeah?" he turns around to face me, and a ghost of a smile traces his lips when he realizes that I'm standing.  
  
"Are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" he asks shortly.  
  
Once again, I swallow hard before replying, "I'm just making sure. You were pretty sick not long ago, and you still look..." my voice trails off, because I can't seem to be able to find the right word to describe how he looks.  
  
He raises his eyebrows. "What?"  
  
"Tired," I answer for lack of a better description.  
  
Once again, something that almost looks like a smile appears on his lips, and then he replies, "I'm OK, don't worry about it. I said I won't do it again, and I usually keep my promises." And with that, he turns around and walks through the door.  
  
I stare after him with tears in my eyes, wondering if he really is all right, and if things are ever going to be the same between us again.  
  
I'm standing behind the desk, trying to concentrate on my work. I'm having a hard time keeping my focus, though. My mind constantly drifts back to the events in the locker room earlier today. Except for running into Cruz, coming back was great. Everyone seemed happy to have me back, and I felt loved and cared for. It felt like home.  
  
I'm very worried about Bosco, though. He really doesn't look well. Today he even looked worse than he did yesterday. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink all night, and he was uncharacteristically quiet, but no one seemed to notice. So maybe that's how he acts nowadays.  
  
I wonder if he's happy to have me around again. He said it was good to see me, but the way he looked at me told me otherwise. He looked plain scared. I file some more paper work and try again to concentrate on what I'm supposed to do, but it's impossibly. I can't get the image of Bos' tired and pale face out of my mind. Bosco looking like that, is not a good sign. I know that, and now he's off for today with some personal time because of a family crisis. I'm wondering what Mikey has gotten himself into this time. I'm sure, though, that whatever it is, it's just going to add to Bosco's stress, and I'm happy I'm around to take care of him this time, 'If he let's you' a little mean voice in the back of my head says, 'He's afraid of you, remember?'  
  
Swersky comes out of his office, hands me some more paper work, and for the millionth time tonight, asks how I'm doing  
  
"Still good," I answer, and after a short silence I continue, "Hey, Lieu, you know what would make me feel better, since you're asking?"  
  
"What?" he answers kindly.  
  
"No offence...but you know working the desk is like watching dry paint get dryer, and you know I was reassigned for full duty, not clerical duty...."  
  
I can't keep myself from asking. I need to be with Bos, and if he can't convince Swersky that we need to ride together, maybe I can.  
  
"Well, who do you want to ride with?" he asks calmly.  
  
The question really catches me off guard. What does he mean? He ought to know I want to ride with Bosco. He was the one who said no. Wait a minute...he should know, if Bosco had told him...but obviously he hasn't. I decide to ask, just to be sure when I confront Bosco about it.  
  
"What do you mean? Bosco didn't talk to you about us partnering up together again?"  
  
"No," he answers shortly and walks away.  
  
My first reaction to Bosco's behavior is anger. I can't believe that after just a few hours, he's back to lying to me again, but when I calm down, I realize that something is going on with him. The only question is what? Bosco always has an excuse for lying to me. Most of the time it's a very lousy excuse but in that messed up head of his, it always makes sense. It's obvious to me that, for some reason, he is tired and stressed out, and obviously something is going on with Mikey. Maybe that's the reason. Maybe he doesn't want me to get involved. I sigh tiredly, wondering when he's going to learn that he can't fix things on his own. We all need help – even Maurice Boscorelli.  
  
Then there's Cruz. It didn't go undetected by me that they once again seem to be best buddies, and the mere thought of it makes me shudder. I feel the jealousy surge through my veins, but I fight back the feeling. This time I'm going to think with my head – not with my heart, because that was what led to disaster the last time, and I'm not going to repeat that mistake. Bosco is mine, and I'm not going to let her have him one more time. This time I'm going to keep my cool.  
  
I decide that this game is going to stop right now. As soon as he shows up again, I'm going to confront him about it, and not stop bugging him until he lets me ride with him again. I can hear Sully's voice in the back of my head, 'For some reason he manages to keep it together as long as he's with you,' and 'Every time you two mess up your partnership, he ends up with a nervous breakdown.' Well, he's not going to have any more nervous breakdowns if I can help it, and he's not the only one who keeps it together better when we're together. I need him too, if I'm going to be able to do what Bosco usually calls 'real police work.'  
  
The shift is almost over, and I had started to fear that he wasn't going to come back today, when he brushes past the desk so quickly that I almost miss him. Although I can't see his face I can tell by his body language that he's very upset. I drop the report I was about to file and hurry after him. I wonder what's wrong. Monroe told me that it was his mother that was in some kind of trouble, and I really hope she isn't seriously hurt or something. It turned out that Monroe is worried about Bosco's health too, but that she's totally powerless when it comes to him. He never talks to her, so she was hoping I could get through to him. Yeah, right, I think it's obvious that chances aren't good that that's going to happen anytime soon; especially when taking into consideration the fact that he appears to be scared of me. But this time, nothing and no one can stop me from trying. I find him rummaging through his locker. He looks really upset - on the verge of tears, - and my worries increase. If something has happened to his mother he's going to break for sure.  
  
Then he turns his head towards me, and I can see that he's just really, really tired.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"Is your Mom OK?" I ask softly to let him know that I really care, and really want to know.  
  
"Not for the lack of me trying," he answers wearily.  
  
"Monroe says your mother was already involved with those people," I reply in an attempt to sooth him, and show him that everything isn't always his fault.  
  
"It was a Joker Poker machine in her bar. I wouldn't call that involved," he answers tiredly.  
  
"But she's all right?" I ask again, to make sure I've got it right, and to show him that whatever went wrong, it's over now.  
  
"Yeah, she's OK, thanks for asking."  
  
For the first time since I saw him at the restaurant, he lets me in, because his eyes tell me how grateful he is that I care.  
  
"Look, I gotta go and talk to the detectives," he says and tries to walk out on me, but there's no way that's going to happen.  
  
I take a step forward to block his path and state calmly, "I talked to Swersky about partnering us back up...."  
  
"Yeah..." he answers defensively, because he knows I have him, and he hates it, and he thinks I'm going to get on his case for lying to me again.  
  
"He says you never mentioned it," I reply sternly, to show him that he's not going to get out of this by ducking my questions.  
  
He slowly turns away from me, and I can see in the mirror that he's rubbing his eyes with his hand like he's having a bad headache, or trying to get ride of some horrible images. Then he turns around to face me, and says softly, "You don't wanna be with me, Faith."  
  
He couldn't be more wrong. Right now, there's nothing I want more in the world than to be with him, but I can't tell him that. Instead, I'm just standing here, watching his walls crumbling down. He can't hide his emotions from me anymore, but I almost wish he could, because what I see in his eyes makes me want to cry. There's so much pain, loneliness, sadness, regret, hurt and despair, that I almost can't stand it. If this is how he feels everyday, then it's a small miracle that he managed to survive that ulcer. It's a miracle that he even makes it out of bed everyday.  
  
"It's not a matter of want," I reply, and I can't keep my voice from trembling slightly as I answer.  
  
I know he's going to think that I'm mad, but the truth is that it takes all I have not to cry. It's true, though, this isn't a matter of want. This is a matter of need. Now I'm sure that he needs me, and I need him - I really do. And if he thinks for one moment, that I'm going to let him out of my sight for very long in the condition he's in right now – then he's dead wrong.  
  
"I can't do it. I can't handle the responsibility anymore," he replies in a tired, defeated voice.  
  
"What responsibility?" I ask slightly confused, both by the statement and by his lame attempt to put up a fight. This is so unlike him, and I'm really starting to get worried.  
  
"You know, for weather you get hurt or not," he answers quietly, and the pain and fear in his voice and eyes almost takes my breath away.  
  
Suddenly, I realize what this is all about. Why he's so afraid. Why he tried so hard to avoid riding with me. Why the thought of me being back at work scares him so much. He's afraid that something is going to happen to me. He's afraid I'm going to get hurt again. But most of all, he's afraid, that he wouldn't be able to protect me – or that he's going to get me hurt.  
  
"You don't have that kind of responsibility for me," I answer calmly, in an attempt to show him that he doesn't have to be afraid, that I can take care of myself. But I know he isn't going to buy it. It doesn't work that way, and we both know that.  
  
Just as I thought, he replies, "If we're partners, yes I am."  
  
He looks miserable when he says it, and my heart breaks for him. Although, I'm touch that I mean so much to him, it kills me to see how scared he is. I can't believe I didn't see it right away. I don't know what to say to him to show him it's going to be all right, but I try to sooth him by reminding him about how it used to be. "Look...I'm gonna do my job exactly the way I did it before that day. That means with you...in 55-David."  
  
I know that isn't exactly the truth, because the day Cruz shot me, there was no 55-David anymore, but that's not important right now. The important thing is to show him that everything is going to be OK.  
  
"I just...I just don't think that such a good idea," he replies tiredly, looking like I just gave him his death sentence.  
  
Once again, my heart breaks for him, and I feel a lump forming in my throat, making it almost impossible to speak, but I can't break down now - I just cant. I need to be strong for both of us, but mostly for him. I have never seen him this fragile before, and it scares me. If I'm going to be able to help him, I need to keep myself together, so that he feels that he can lean on me. Otherwise I'm going to be unable to stop him from breaking down again, and he can't break down, because I need him to keep myself from breaking down.  
  
I know that my struggle to hold back my tears, once again, is going to make him think that I'm angry with him, but maybe that's for the best. He usually obeys my wishes when he thinks I'm mad at him.  
  
I lock my eyes with his to show him that I mean business, and then, as calmly as I can manage, I state, "I'm not asking you. That's my car, and I going to be with you in it, tomorrow."  
  
Then I give him a nod that we both know means,'end of discussion,' and quickly turn around, and walk out from the room as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. I don't dare to turn around because I'm afraid that the devastated, pain- filled look in his eyes, is going to make me break down and confess my love for him in an attempt to make all of his hurt go away.


	13. Chapter thirteen

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith  
  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of this.  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILERS: Up to and including season five, and my story "All that glitters is not gold."  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I just wanted to reassure you all that starting to doubt it, that this will be a happy shipper story before it's over. But as we all know, life is complicated, and no body is as good at making it worse as Bosco and Faith ; )  
  
Thanks to Joey and Bee for all the help and support. I would be lost without you : ) and thanks a lot for the reviews :D They mean all the difference in the world. : )  
  
CHAPTER THIRTEEN  
  
As soon as I'm alone in the locker room I walk over to the bench and sit down. I put my head in my hands, and try to fight the wave of nausea that washes over me. I know I'm doomed, and so is Faith. I've lost my chance to keep her safe, because she keeps insisting that she wants to ride with me. Well, she said it wasn't a matter of want, but what else is there? Need, maybe? But she definitely doesn't need me. What she needs is to stay away. I can't believe she hasn't learned her lesson yet - being with me is nothing but trouble.  
  
I know that she probably thinks that I'm a jerk, and that I don't care about whether she's back or not, but that isn't true. She has no idea what seeing her in the locker room did to me. It was amazing. When I saw her standing by her locker, about to change into her uniform, talking to me, I felt like the world started to move again for the first time since she got shot. Like it had just been on hold, waiting for her to come back.  
  
I take a deep breath, trying to breathe through a way of pain, but it doesn't help. Instead it increases, and I'm overwhelmed with nausea. I quickly make my way over to the toilet stalls, and kneel down on the floor in front of the toilet as I throw up. It hurts like hell. When I'm done; I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, lean back against the wall and close my eyes. Yeah, that's right. I'm sick again, which just confirms how useless I am to Faith. I promised her I wouldn't do that again, and it turned out to be nothing but another damn lie. I can't help it, though. I'm weak like a damn girl nowadays. It doesn't take much stress to make the pain and the nausea to start all over again, but it has always stopped there - until today. I hardly slept at all last night because of what she said to me at the restaurant, and today - with all the stuff going on with my mother - just added to it. I couldn't keep her safe, and now I've lost my last chance to keep Faith safe. I know she's going to get hurt again, because I know I'll screw up again. I always do. It's just a matter of time, and then I'll have to kill myself. There's no way I'd be able to live through that again, but that isn't really a problem. The ulcer is going to take care of the killing part for me.  
  
I have no idea why she wants to be with me so badly. She should avoid me, like I had the plague, but for some reason she's never understood that. I guess I could refuse...but no, I can't do that to her. I've never been able to deny her anything, and I owe her everything. So if she wants to ride with me, then that's how it's going to be. It's like she said; it's not a matter of want – at least not for me. Maybe she really has forgiven me and wants to fix things, or maybe she only wants to torture me. But if that's the case, it's OK. I deserve anything I get.  
  
I hear the door to the locker room open, and I realize that I can't stay in here forever. I slowly stand up, feeling a bit shaky, and check the contents in the toilet for blood before I flush. There isn't any, and that's a good thing. I really don't feel like spending any more time in the hospital. Maybe I should go and see a doctor tomorrow – ask him to increases my medication or something – then maybe I'll at least be able to keep one promise to Faith. I open the door and walk over to the sink to wash my hands. I also splash some water on my face in an attempt to feel better.  
  
"Hey, Bos, you OK?"  
  
It's Davis voice and he sounds worried. Shit.  
  
"I'm fine," I answer defensively.  
  
"You sure? You don't look so hot."  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure. Just leave me alone," I answer rudely.  
  
Davis puts his hands in the air. "OK, OK, calm down, man. There's no need to get angry. I was just checking."  
  
I just glare at him, and he leaves the room without another word. This is just great. There's no doubt that he's going to run straight to Sully, telling him I look sick. Then Sully's going to start fussing around, and I don't know how much more concern I can take. Monroe's already asked me how I'm feeling twice today, and that's more than enough. I hate that everyone thinks I'm going to shatter into pieces any moment, but this is just how weak and pathetic I've become lately. People around me aren't worrying about me getting in trouble anymore; they are worrying that I'm going to break down.  
  
I slump down on the bench again, hugging myself, as a new wave of pain radiates through my stomach. I close my eyes and try to block out the pain. This is not good; I'm really starting to feel like shit. The door swings open again, and the heavy footsteps tell me it's Sully who's coming. Great, just great, now he's going to get on my case.  
  
I can feel the bench bend under his weight as he sits down next to me. "You OK, Bosco?" he asks kindly.  
  
I open my eyes to look at him, and answer, "Yeah, I'm fine."  
  
"You sure? You don't look so good," he states patiently, with that soft voice he used in the hospital, the one that makes me want to do as I'm told.  
  
"I'm just tired," I answer, and close my eyes, trying to ignore another wave of pain.  
  
I can feel Sully's eyes on me, and then he asks softly, "Bosco, is your stomach bothering you again?"  
  
I shake my head.  
  
"Bosco!" he says sternly.  
  
I open my mouth to answer him, but I'm overtaken with nausea. Once again, I run to the toilet, and this time I barely make it in time. When I'm done, I sit back against the wall and try to breathe.  
  
Sully crouches down in front of me, looks inquiringly at me and asks, "Feeling better?"  
  
I nod.  
  
"Did you get sick earlier, too? When Davis was in here?"  
  
I nod again.  
  
He stands up, and looks down into the toilet before flushing, and I can hear him murmuring something. I stand up, too, and make a repeat performance of washing my hands and face. Then I return to the bench and close my eyes, as I sit down and lean my head against my locker. Sully follows me and sits down beside me again.  
  
"How long have you been throwing up?"  
  
"Only these two times tonight."  
  
"Are you lying to me?" There's a hint of warning in his voice.  
  
I shake my head.  
  
"There wasn't any blood in it this time, how about the last time?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
I nod.  
  
"What's going on, Bosco?" he asks softly.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Something must have happened to make you so upset that you're sick again," he states calmly.  
  
"It's nothing," I answer tiredly, shivering slightly. Damn it! I really hope I'm not getting the fever back, too, because that part really sucked.  
  
Sully looks worriedly at me. "Maybe I should drive you to Mercy."  
  
I shake my head furiously. "No, no, Sul. I'm gonna be fine. I just need some rest, OK? I'm taking my meds, and I'll call my doctor tomorrow, I promise."  
  
He looks hesitatingly at me for a few moments, before nodding his head in agreement. "OK, but you need to go home."  
  
"I know, and I will. I'm not working today anyway."  
  
If that surprises him, he doesn't show it. "You need a lift?"  
  
I shake my head. "No. I have my own car. I'll be fine."  
  
He nods his head in agreement again, and continues, "So, wanna tell me what's wrong?"  
  
"No, not really," I murmur and look down at my hands. God, he's stubborn. Why can't he just let it go? He ought to know by now that I don't like talking to people.  
  
"I saw Faith walking out of here a little while ago. Does she have anything to do with you getting sick again?"  
  
"Maybe."  
  
He sighs heavily and asks tiredly, "Did you two have another fight?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then what did she say to make you this upset?"  
  
I look up and meet his eyes. "She wants to ride with me again."  
  
Sully smiles. "I told you; she's forgiven you."  
  
"I wish she hadn't," I reply quietly.  
  
"What?" he asks in surprise.  
  
"I don't want her to ride with me."  
  
"Why's that?"  
  
"Because I'm gonna get her killed!" I almost shout in frustration.  
  
He raises his eyebrows. "Really? What's your plan?"  
  
I glare at him. "That's so not funny, Sullivan! I'm serious. It isn't safe for her to be around me. I know she's gonna get hurt again – or even end up dead - if she's around me!"  
  
"How come you're so sure about that? You clairvoyant, or something?"  
  
He sounds amused, and I suddenly feel completely drained. Why do I even try? I should have known he doesn't really care about me. I should have known he was going to make fun of me. I should have known no one could really understand how hard this is for me.  
  
I put my head in my hands and tiredly murmur, "Never mind, you'll never understand anyway."  
  
"Bosco," Sully says softly, with regret in his voice, putting his hand on my shoulder, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of you, but you need to give yourself a break. It isn't more dangerous for her to ride with you than anyone else."  
  
"Yes it is."  
  
"What makes you think that?"  
  
I sigh heavily and rub my eyes. I can't believe how slow he is today. He's been in my shoes, and he knows me. He should know it's just a matter of time before I do something stupid again.  
  
"Because I'm a hotheaded, bigoted, immature jerk, who never thinks until it's too late? Isn't that what you always says?"  
  
"You have changed, Bosco," he replies softly.  
  
I look at him in surprise. "I have?"  
  
He smiles slightly. "Yes, you have. You act more mature, and you have calmed down."  
  
I contemplate his statement for a couple of minutes before answering, "It doesn't matter. I'm gonna slip sooner or later - I always do - and then she's gonna get hurt again because of me, and I can't take that, Sully. I just can't!"  
  
I can hear the desperation in my voice, and it takes all I have not to cry when I say it. The memories from that night come back again, and the pain they create in my heart and stomach make me feel dizzy. I put my head back in my hands, and try to take deep breaths. I feel sick as hell, but I don't want to puke again. I need to get myself under control. I can't continue to be this weak if I'm going to be able to take care of, and protect, Faith properly. The pain increases again, and I close my eyes tightly, feeling myself shivering.  
  
"Bosco? You OK?" Sully asks worriedly.  
  
I lift my head and look at him as I answer, "Yeah, I'm fine."  
  
"No, you're not," he says, the worry in his voice increasing, "Come on, I'll take you to Mercy."  
  
"No," I reply stubbornly.  
  
"Come on, Bosco. You don't wanna end up dead, do you?"  
  
"I won't. I'll be fine. I promised Faith I wouldn't do it again," I answer calmly.  
  
Sully smiles slightly, and looks almost fondly at me. "You did, huh?"  
  
I nod.  
  
There's a short silence before he continues, "Maybe you should look at it as a second chance."  
  
I stare at him in confusion. "What?"  
  
"Riding with Faith, maybe you should look at it as a chance to do things right the second time around."  
  
I tiredly rub my eyes again. "Why would I deserve a second chance, and what has Faith done to deserve to be in hell again?"  
  
"Everybody deserves a second chance, Bosco, and Faith is a smart lady. Maybe giving you a second chance is her way of saying I'm sorry."  
  
I look angrily at him. "She has nothing to be sorry for!"  
  
Sully smiles. "Whatever, you know what I mean."  
  
We sit in silence for a while. Me, thinking about what he said, and trying to fight the waves of pain running through my body, Sully, watching me in silence, probably trying to decide if I'm OK, or if he's going to start bugging me about taking me to the hospital again. Finally I'm starting to feel better, and I know Sully sees it, too, because he's suddenly looking relieved, and then he says, "Let me at least take you home."  
  
The truth is that I'm grateful for the offer, because I really don't feel like driving right now. I'm exhausted, and my whole body feels like Jello. I can't let him know that, though, because then I'm probably going to end up in the hospital.  
  
So, instead I look annoyed as I ask, "Is that gonna make you stop fussing around like you're my mother?"  
  
Sully makes a face. I have a feeling he doesn't like the metaphor.  
  
"Yeah, it will," he answers, suddenly sounding grumpy.  
  
I can't help but smile - that's the Sully I know.  
  
"OK, let me just gather my things," I reply, suddenly feeling an overwhelming need to be alone.  
  
Sully senses it and answers, "OK, I'll wait for you outside," and starts to leave the room, but pauses in the doorway and says, "And Bosco...."  
  
I look up at him. "Yeah?"  
  
"She's safe with you. She always has been. If I had thought otherwise, I would have talked Swersky into breaking you up long ago."  
  
And with that, he leaves the room, leaving me to stare after him. If Sully really thinks I'm able to protect her, then maybe things will work out after all.  
  
TBC.... 


	14. Chapter fourteen

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith  
  
DISCLAIMER: Nothing of this belongs to me...  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILER: Up to and including season five, and my story "All that glitters is not gold."  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks – again to Joey for her excellent beta reading, and to Bee for encouraging me, and helping me sort out the details from the actual show.  
  
BIG thanks also for the kind reviews : ) They are great inspiration : )  
  
CHAPTER FOURTEEN  
  
I close the door to the detective's office, and start walking towards the stairs. I feel sick, and I'm so tired I can barely walk. It makes me all the more grateful that Sully is going to drive me home.  
  
"Boscorelli!"  
  
Swersky's stern voice tells me that I'm not going to get home anytime soon. I turn around to look at him. "Yeah?"  
  
"I wanna talk to you – in my office - now!"  
  
I sigh and nod my head. "Yes, sir."  
  
I wonder why he feels the need to yell at me now; I thought I had sorted it out with the detectives.  
  
"Can't it wait until tomorrow? He needs to go home, he isn't feeling well," Sully pipes up.  
  
Swersky raises his eyebrows, and gives me a 'Don't you dare to try to get out of this,' look. "Really? Boscorelli?"  
  
"I'm OK, sir," I answer tiredly, and look over at Sully. "I'll be OK, you can go home if you want to."  
  
He gives me a look that, if I didn't know better, I'd call protective, leans against the wall and answers, "No. I'll wait here."  
  
I just nod in agreement, trying not to show how relieved I am that I don't have to drive home on my own, and then I follow Swersky into his office.  
  
Swersky closes the door and points to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit."  
  
I sit down gratefully, because my legs feel like they're going to give out any minute. Swersky sits down at the edge of his desk, and gives me a stern look. I wonder what on earth I could have done this time to make him mad.  
  
"I talked to Yokas today. She said she wanted me to put you two back together again."  
  
"Yeah, I know," I answer quietly.  
  
"She also said that she'd asked you to ask me. How come I don't remember having such a conversation with you?"  
  
"Because I didn't ask you."  
  
"Why? Don't you want to ride with Yokas?"  
  
"Yes, I do, but I don't think it's such a good idea for her to be around me anymore."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I just don't think it is."  
  
He looks inquiringly at me. "Well, neither do I, but she seems to think differently. Care to explain why?"  
  
I swallow hard, and feel like I'm going to get sick again as I answer, "I wish I could, sir, but I have no idea."  
  
"No idea, huh?"  
  
I shake my head, and shivers slightly. I really feel like crap, and I am overwhelmed by the need to lie down. But something in Swersky's eyes tells me it isn't going to happen anytime soon, and his gaze scares me. It's angry and cold, and suddenly I realize that it's the look he usually saves for the preps. Shit. That can't be good. I wonder what he thinks that I've done that makes him look at me this way. Then he starts talking again, and I realize just how horrible his thoughts are.  
  
"What do you have on her?"  
  
I can feel my eyes widen a bit, and I stare at him in horror. I can't believe I heard him right. He isn't really asking me if I'm blackmailing Faith, is he?  
  
"What?"  
  
"You heard me, Boscorelli. What do you have on her? What are you threatening to do to her, huh? Or is it the kids you're using to twist her arm?"  
  
Oh my God! He really thinks I'm blackmailing Faith into riding with me. He really thinks I'm threatening her and the kids! Oh God, I can't understand why he would think something like that, but wait...yes, I can. I'm well aware that it's pretty unbelievable that someone like Faith wants to be with me in the first place, and after all that has happened, I guess it's even more unbelievable. I know I can't really blame him, but still, the thought makes me feel like I'm about to choke. I can't lose it now, though. I need to hold myself together for a couple of more minutes.  
  
I swallow hard, and try to keep my voice steady, but it doesn't help - I'm too shocked. "No...o. Sir no! I'm not threatening her – or the kids! I...I would never do such thing...she's...I...."  
  
I'm too shaken to even be able to finish the sentence, and a wave of pain makes a cold sweat break out on my forehead. I feel like I could throw up any minute, but I can't break down now - I just can't. I need to make him understand that – no matter how much of an idiot I am - I would never, ever do something to hurt her on purpose.  
  
I take a deep breath, and try again. "Please, sir, believe me. I would never do anything like that - especially not to Faith. I would never hurt her – ever. I owe her my life. She's saved my ass more times than I can count. I'd rather die than to see her hurt. Please, sir, believe me. I could never hurt her."  
  
Swersky looks doubtfully at me. "So you're telling me, that after all that's happened between Yokas and you - after she's asked for a new partner - she'd still willingly lay her life on line for you. And that, on top of it – in spite of everything that's happened with Cruz and Noble - she would want to be partnered back up with you again. Are you telling me that she would do this voluntary? Why would she do that, Bosco, if you weren't threatening her? Out of the goodness of her heart? "  
  
I swallow hard. "I don't know, sir, but I wish I'd never asked her to be there that night. I wish I'd never asked her to be my partner all those years ago, and I wish I'd been shot instead."  
  
And with that I lose it. I can't help it. Everything's coming back to me, and the memories of that horrible night always make me feel sick. I know there's no way I'm going to be able to make it to the bathroom in time, so I just grab the waste basket and start to heave.  
  
"Bosco?" I can feel Swersky's hand on my back.  
  
I put the basket down, and wipe my forehead and mouth with my sleeve. "I'm sorry, sir," I murmur.  
  
Swersky keeps his hand on my shoulder, and the cold, angry stare in his eyes is gone. It's replaced by something that looks like a mixture of sympathy and concern.  
  
"Sully said you weren't feeling well, was this what he meant?"  
  
I nod carefully, afraid that I'm going to get sick again if I move too quickly.  
  
"How long has this been going on?" he asks sternly.  
  
"Just today, sir. It's nothing. I'll be fine."  
  
"You sure? Maybe you should go to the hospital and get checked out. I don't want you passing out on duty again."  
  
"I'm OK, boss; it's probably just a virus."  
  
Swersky smiles slightly. "You're a horrible liar, Bosco – always have been."  
  
I just look at him, because I have nothing to add. He's right – I am.  
  
"And that's what saves you this time," he continues, "I believe you when you say you have nothing on her. I believe you when you're saying you aren't threatening her – for now. Why she still wants to be with you are beyond my comprehension...."  
  
"Mine, too," I murmur.  
  
"...But I've a feeling neither of us want to deny her anything at this point, am I right?"  
  
I nod.  
  
"So she's riding with you again – starting tomorrow. But I'm warning you, Bosco. If something happens to her that isn't clearly connected to the job, or if she ends up in trouble again because of you, or if I get _any_ indication whatsoever, that she's afraid of you, then you're gonna wish you were dead. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
"I already wish I was," I murmur under my breath and fight a new wave of pain.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said, yes, sir."  
  
"Good, now get out of here!"  
  
"Yes, sir," I answer and stand up to leave, but when I do, the room starts spinning. I reach out and grab the desk with both hands to keep myself from falling.  
  
"Bosco?"  
  
"I'm fine," I murmur, and try to make the room stop spinning. I can tell by Swersky's actions that he doesn't believe me. He pushes me back in the chair, and guides my head down between my knees.  
  
Then he opens the door and shouts, "SULLIVAN!"  
  
"Yes, sir!"  
  
"Get in here!"  
  
I can hear Sully's heavy footsteps approaching. "What?"  
  
"Take Boscorelli to Mercy, and make sure he gets checked out. He's sick."  
  
"I know he is. I told you he needed to go home – and now look at him," Sully states disapprovingly.  
  
Swersky sighs. "Just take him to Mercy, will you?"  
  
"Come on, Bosco," Sully says kindly and takes me by the arm.  
  
I stand up slowly, and when I'm sure the room has stop spinning, I break free. "I'm OK."  
  
Sully nods. "I know you are."  
  
I start to leave, when Swersky's stern voice stops me. "Remember what I told you...." Then he turns to Sully. "Make sure he really gets checked out."  
  
We both nod, and then we finally leave the precinct.  
  
I close the door behind me and throw my keys on the kitchen counter along with the bag from the pharmacy. I fill a glass with water, and take the new meds the doctor prescribed today. I managed to talk Sully out of taking me to the hospital last night. He made me swear to God I'd go and see my own doctor today, which wasn't too bad, seeing as how I had already planned on it.  
  
I still feel pretty crappy. I got sick twice during the night, and although I don't own a thermometer, I'm pretty sure I'm running a fever. The doctor said that it's the ulcer that's causing my problems, and that I have to be careful so it doesn't start bleeding again. No stress, he said. Yeah, right. I wonder what kind of world he's living in. It sure as hell isn't mine. I realize, though, that I have to call in sick today. I can't work in this condition - especially not if I'm supposed to work with Faith. I don't want to scare her like I did with Sasha, and I need to be able to back her up properly. So, it's for the best I just stay home today.  
  
I walk over to the couch, lie down, and pick up the phone. I dial the number to the precinct, and ask the day sergeant to tell Swersky that I'm not going to be in today. Then I hang up, and stare out into space with the cordless phone still in my hand. I have one more phone call to make, and I'm dreading it. I have to call Faith, and tell her I'm going to stay at home today. I don't want her to think I'm bailing on her the first day, and I don't want her to think I'm worse off than I really am. I look at my watch; it shows 10:15, which rules out the opportunity to call Emily's cell, because she's already in school. I sigh. OK, I might as well get it over with. I hit speed dial #2, and hold my breath as I wait for someone to pick up, praying it isn't going to be Fred.  
  
"Yokas."  
  
It's Faith, and that really is a relief. I don't have enough energy to deal with Fred right now.  
  
"Hi, Faith, it's me."  
  
It surprises me to hear how weak and tired my voice sounds, and I know it's going to make her worried. Not necessarily because she cares about me, but because that's how she is.  
  
And just as I thought her next reply is, "Bosco, what 's wrong?" said in a very worried voice.  
  
"What makes you think something's wrong?" I answer, and there's annoyance in my voice. I can't help it. It's a bad habit – a very old one.  
  
"Well, we don't usually call each other just to chit chat, do we? And you don't sound so good either," she answers defensively, and I mentally slap myself for being a jerk. She's done nothing to deserve this. She's just showing concern.  
  
I sigh. "I guess you're right. I'm OK. I just wanted you to know that Swersky called me to his office before I left, and told me he's putting us back together again."  
  
"You OK with that?" she asks softly, and I can hear that she's really afraid that my answer is going to be no.  
  
Once again, I feel like a jerk for making her believe that I don't want to be with her. I wish there was some way to make her understand that I only want what's best for her, and that being with me is no good at all.  
  
"Yeah, I guess it is, if that's what you want," I answer just as softly.  
  
"Yes, it is."  
  
I run my free hand over my face in frustration. God, how I wish she'd said no.  
  
"Why, Faith, why? Why do you want to be with me so badly?" I can't stop myself from asking, because that's what's been occupying my mind ever since that meeting in the restaurant.  
  
"Does it really matter, Bos?" she asks with some of the old affection in her voice.  
  
"It does to me," I reply stubbornly.  
  
"I just want my old life back, Bosco, and that includes you. Is it really that hard to understand?" she asks in a small voice, and I know I've hurt her again.  
  
I know that I should shut up and be grateful that she's forgiven me, but of course I just carry on as the complete idiot I am. I have never known when it's time to stop.  
  
"Yeah, it is to me, and I'm not the only one having trouble believing it. Swersky thinks I'm blackmailing you into it!" I say angrily, although, the thought of it doesn't really make me angry - it makes me want to cry.  
  
"Yeah, I know," she replies quietly.  
  
"You do?" I ask in surprise.  
  
"Yeah, he asked me about it, too."  
  
"He did?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"When?"  
  
"When I was still in the hospital."  
  
I swallow hard and try to fight the pain; because of course this conversation has made me feel worse again. It's just so horrible. It's still hard for me to believe that Swersky really would think I'd do something like that, but obviously he was pretty convinced that I would. It explains all the strange looks he's been giving me the past few months and why he was so quick to believe the accusations about me taking bribes. I wonder if Faith feels the same way.  
  
"Was that how it felt?" I ask so quietly it's almost a whisper.  
  
I dread the answer, but I need to ask, because I'm well aware that, in a way, I did blackmail her – emotionally. I knew that she wouldn't be able to resist, when I told her she was the only one. She is, but that isn't really important right now.  
  
"What?" She sounds genuinely surprised, like she really doesn't know what I'm talking about.  
  
"Did it feel like I blackmailed you?"  
  
She sounds truly shocked when she replies. "God, no! No, Bos, of course not! I trust you. I know you'd never do anything to hurt me on purpose. I lo...." She stops abruptly, and takes a deep breath before she continues, and I can't help but wondering what she was about to say. "I know you would never do something like that. I told Swersky that, but he didn't believe me. I'm really sorry, Bos."  
  
"So we're OK then?" I ask fearfully, almost holding my breath.  
  
"We sort it out somehow... eventually. We just need time...both of us," she answers softly.  
  
I feel relief washing over me. She has forgiven me. I'm sure of that now, and she said she trusted me, and that itself is a miracle. If I just can keep myself from screwing up, and keep her safe, then maybe things really will be fine eventually. The tension I have been feeling the past few days, finally disappears, and makes me feel completely drained.  
  
A violent shiver runs through my body, and I decide to go and lie down in my bed to get more comfortable. But when I stand up, I suddenly feel an almost overwhelming need to puke. I sit back on the couch, put my head in my free hand and take a deep breath, still holding the phone to my ear.  
  
"Bosco?" Faith says questioningly.  
  
I know that if I don't answer her, she's going to get worried, but I don't dare to open my mouth out of fear of throwing up.  
  
"Bosco, you OK?" her voice is very worried now.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I manage to get out in a strained voice, as I lay back down on the couch.  
  
"You sure? You really don't sound good."  
  
I sigh. I better tell her I'm sick, after all, that was the purpose of this conversation in the first place. "I'm sick, OK? That's why I called. I wanted to tell you we're back together, but I won't be in for a couple of days, because I'm sick."  
  
"Bosco, what's wrong? It isn't that ulcer again, is it?" she asks, with something that almost sounds like fear in her voice.  
  
I close my eyes, feeling like a traitor. I promised her not to get sick again, but still I am. At least it isn't bleeding, and that has to count for something, right?  
  
"Yes it is, but you don't have to worry. It isn't bleeding or anything. I'm just having some trouble to keeping food down," I answer, and try hard to sound like it's no big deal, but I'm well aware that she isn't going to buy it. She's always been hard to fool, and I know the exhaustion in my voice gives me away.  
  
"Are you sure? You really don't sound OK, and I can tell you're in pain. Maybe you should go to the hospital."  
  
"Relax, Faith. I'm fine, and I have been to the doctor. He gave me some new pills, and told me to rest, and that's why I'm gonna stay at home," I answer with a hint of annoyance in my voice. I hate myself for acting like this, but I've never been good at handling concern - not even from her.  
  
"Are you planning on taking them, too?" she asks sternly, and I can't help but smile. She knows me too well.  
  
"Yes I do. Actually, I already have," I answer in my usual defensive voice to show her that I'm OK, and my usual grumpy self.  
  
I shudder violently when another chill runs through by body along with a wave of exhaustion, and I know I need to get into bed and get some sleep, before I pass out.  
  
"Look, Faith, I need to get some rest. I see you in a couple of days, OK?"  
  
"OK. Is there anything I can do for you? Do you need me to get you anything? Like food, or something?" she asks kindly.  
  
I smile again. She's so caring and protective, I had no idea how much I missed it - until now.  
  
"No, I'm fine."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Come to think of it, there is something you can do," I answer softly.  
  
"Anything, Bos."  
  
"Stay at the desk until I come back, OK?"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Just humor me, please," I beg softly, because I'm not brave enough to tell her that I'll rest better if I know she's safe. But of course she reads my mind. She's always been able to do that.  
  
"OK, what ever makes you feel comfortable, Bos," she replies softly. "You just rest and get better now, and I'll see you soon, OK?"  
  
I swallow hard because the fondness in her voice makes me feel like crying. This illness is really turning me into a wimp. "OK, I'll talk to you later," I answer tiredly, in a somewhat scratchy voice.  
  
"Yeah, and, Bos? If you need anything - anything at all - please call me...or Emily's cell, OK?"  
  
"OK."  
  
"Promise," she begs worriedly.  
  
"I swear. Bye, Faith. See you soon."  
  
"Yeah, soon, but there's no rush. You need to get well first, OK?"  
  
"OK."  
  
"Good, bye, Bosco."  
  
"Bye."  
  
I hang up the phone, and slowly make my way to my bedroom. I climb into the bed, bundling up, trying to get warm. I feel almost happy. Maybe Faith and I really will be OK, eventually. At least she really does care, and right now, that's good enough for me. 


	15. Chapter fifteen

TITLE: Do you really want me?  
  
AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith

DISCLAIMER: Nothing of this is mine....

RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILERS: Up to, and including season five, and my story "All that glitters is not gold."

AUTHOR'S NOTE I: I know there's been forever, and I'm truly sorry! But I had the worst authors block ever, mostly because I haven't seen the episodes I'm supposed to write about.... So BIG thanks to Schmoo for helping me with the details, although she's a very busy person, and Thank You Bee, lovinbosco, lore and Joey for the encouragement. An extra thanks goes out to Joey for torturing me through technical stuff, and language lessons ;)

AUTHOR'S NOTE II: This is for you lady Skywalker : ) I just wanted to let you know that I heard you, and that I took it under consideration, because the last thing I want to do is to bore you. The problem is that when I start to write a story it kind of gets its own life, so it didn't work. I'm sorry, I hope you'll continue ready anyway : ) Thanks for your opinion : )

So here you are, the new chapter : )

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Is that all you gonna eat?" I ask in disbelief, pointing at Bos' cup of soup.

"Yeah, so what? Since when is my dinner choice your problem?" he answers defensively.

"Well, excuse me for asking," I reply, just as defensively.

He just glares at me. I bite my bottom lip, look at him closer, and I realize that, he's starting to look really ill again. The sad thing is that he never looks especially healthy nowadays. The tired, worn-out look seems to have become a part of him, and I'm getting so used to it, that I almost didn't notice that he's looking worse.

I miss the old Bosco. I miss his smile, and the way he loved to tease me. We're back together again, but it's nothing like it was before. We're polite to each other, and occasionally there's a glimpse of how we used to be, but most of the time the car is filled with depressed silence.

I told him on my first day back, that my personal life was off limits. I know now that that was a mistake, because that means now he doesn't tell me what's going on in his life either, and I can't ask him, and that makes it difficult for me to be there for him like I should. I have to keep my home life away from him, though, because it's so extremely complicated. Fred seems to understand less and less with every day that goes by. I have a feeling he'd kill Bosco if he knew he could get away with it. I don't want Bos to know these things, because that would only make him feel guilty, and guilt creates stress, and God knows he doesn't need any more of that.

He's so fragile nowadays that it scares me, but I'm trying to support him by just hanging around. So far it seems to be working, because he hasn't gotten any worse – until now. It doesn't surprise me, though. Things are starting to get really complicated with Mikey, and the fact that Cruz is the one handling it doesn't help at all. I hate the thought of her having something to do with anything connected with Bosco. Now, when Mikey finally seems to be able to sorts out his life, and he and Bos seem to work things out, they don't need a backstabbing bitch like Cruz involved. It feels like anything could happen, and I don't mean anything good. I have a feeling Bosco shares the same fears, and that's probably why he's starting to feel ill again.

I'm constantly worrying about him, but my messy personal life, and the fragility of our partnership, make it hard for me to approach him the right way - make it hard to be there for him as much like I wish I could. I'm afraid that I'm going to do something wrong that will piss him off, or scare him away. I don't trust myself. I'm afraid that he's going to be able to see the almost overwhelming love I feel. I don't know what's wrong with me lately, but it seems like it's getting harder for me to hide my love with each passing day. Maybe it's because my marriage seems to be going down the drain.... I don't really know, but what I do know is that I've come close to slipping numerous times lately, and considering how tense and uncomfortable our relationship is - and that the chemistry that we used to have seems to have vanished into thin air - it's very strange.

I also know that showing him concern is the easiest way to slip, because there's no other time when I want to hold him and kiss his pain away so badly than when he isn't feeling well. I have to push my luck, though, because the way he just plays with his spoon - without eating - only worries me more. I need to make sure he's OK. I don't want him to end up in the hospital again.

"Bos," I ask softly, "you feeling, OK?"

He looks up at me. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

The way he tiredly runs a hand over his face makes it hard for me to believe him.

"So the fact that you're eating soup has nothing to do with your stomach bothering you again?"

"It's no big deal, Faith. Really. It'll probably be better tomorrow," he answers, and smiles slightly at me.

That smile convinces me that he's feeling sick again, because he only smiles that way when he tries to trick me to back off.

"So it is bothering you?"

He sighs tiredly. "It hurts a bit, OK? But it's under control. I promise."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I promised, remember?" he says softly.

I nod, and he smiles again. It's that soft, caring smile that always makes my knees go weak. There's been a long time since I've seen it, but the sight of it now has me believe that maybe we really will be able to rebuild what we had.

He stirs his soup again, then looks up and ask, "And you? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" I ask, slightly puzzled.

He shrugs. "Just wondering, you were pretty upset on the phone yesterday...."

I bite my bottom lip and look down at the tabletop. I shouldn't have broken down like that, I know that, but this whole case just keeps getting worse, and the thought of the pain that little girl and her Mom had to go through was really getting to me. I couldn't help but thinking of Emily, and when I heard his voice on the phone, I just couldn't hold it together anymore, because there's no other person on the planet that makes me feel more safe than he does. I realize that, although he's usually the one screwing things up - and then relying on me to fix it - I'm expecting him to fix the things I can't handle, and usually he does. It's like he always finds some extra strength when I need him. The promise he made years ago, when he told me he'd always be there for me, wasn't just something he said – he really meant it. He's been keeping that promise through the years, and of course that makes me love him even more.

I look up again and meet his gaze. His eyes are filled with worry and concern, and I swallow hard to keep myself from crying again. I don't want him to worry about me but, at the same time, it feels so good to have someone who cares.

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just that...it was really awful...and I was thinking of Em and...." I shake my head to get rid of both images and the urge to cry. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to sound like a wimp, I just...I'm sorry, Bos."

I know my statement sounds pretty confused and incomplete, but as usual, what I can't say with words he reads from my eyes.

His eyes are soft and filled with compassion, and something else, that my twisted mind wants to call love. Then he reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it gently. "Hey. It's OK. You're not a wimp. You're human."

I swallow hard, unable to tear my gaze away from his. "I know, but I didn't mean to dump this on you, too. You have enough stuff going on as it is."

He lets go of my hand, and I have to restrain myself to keep from holding on to it. It feels so good to be touched by him. It feels like I'm untouchable to all hurt, both emotional and physical, as long as he holds on to me, but as soon as he let go, I feel lonely again.

"Don't worry about me. I'll manage, and I thought we'd been through this stuff before. It's OK to dump stuff on me. I'm not anybody," he replies shortly and I can see the hurt in his eyes.

Shit...here we go again. He's never going to forgive me for that one.

"I know that, Bos. I never meant to...."

"It's OK. I know what you meant. Come on, let's go," he says giving me a small smile as if trying to reassure me that everything is OK, but I'm pretty sure it isn't, and I hate myself for destroying the moment with distrust – again. I can only hope that this time, he'll be able to see that I'm only trying to protect him

I can't believe how fast things have gotten out of hand lately. Everything seems to fall apart: my marriage, and the case with the little girl, but the worst part is what has happened to Mikey. Just as I thought, Cruz managed to screw things up real bad. Instead of helping him out, and being grateful for the information she was given, she tried to throw him in jail for murder – of a cop no less. His lawyer turned out to be a scumbag and an abuser, and their father.... Their father turned out to be the worst of them all. I still can't believe he was willing to turn in his own son for money.

He really is an evil man. You can tell by the look in his eyes. It's cold and hard, and it actually gives me the chills. There's no doubt that if you're standing in his way, you're going to pay dearly. It's also pretty obvious that Bosco's stood in his way several times over the years, and paid a high price for that. Neither of them show the other any love or affection, and it's actually hard to believe that they're father and son, but it's easy to tell that it's real hard on Bos to be around him. Whatever punishment his father gave him as a child, it had to be something really cruel and awful. I know it, because, every so often, there's a glimpse of terror in Bosco's eyes when he looks at him. And no matter how hard he tries, he can't hide it – at least not from me, and probably not from Anthony, either.... I'm slowly starting to hate this man. Not because he's ever done anything to me, but because of what he's done – and still does – to Bosco.

All these things have been very hard on Bos, and I know I haven't been there for him as I should have, but it's so complicated. My own life seems to turn into an even bigger mess with every day that goes by, and I don't know how to handle that, but worst of all, I don't know how to reach Bos anymore. I'm not even sure if he wants me to care or not, and just to make everything as awful as possibly; now poor Mikey is dead.

Dead, mutilated, left in a dumpster, like all he ever was was a piece of trash, and it's all Cruz fault. She just had to push it – and now he's dead. I really wish that Mikey had been content with getting clean, and concentrated on staying that way, instead of trying to pay the city back.

He didn't need to do what he did. He didn't need to prove anything to anyone. All he needed to do was to stay clean and love his brother - that was all Bosco ever asked for. But it's too late for that now, and I know I have to be there for him – now more than ever.

I take a deep breath and try to summon enough courage to call him. The problem is that I don't know what to say. I'm having a hard time understanding that Mikey is dead, and I didn't even know him all that well. I can only begin to imagine how totally surreal his dead must feel to Bosco, and the way he died...I don't want to think about how hard that must be on Bos.... I don't want to think about what the blame is doing to him right now – what kind of state he's in.... Because of course he blames himself – he always does.

I take another deep breath and dial the so familiar number, silently begging for him to pick up, but he doesn't. Instead I get his answering machine, and I'm listening to the message, but I don't bother to leave any; I try his cell phone instead. No answer. Maybe he's with his Mom, trying to comfort her.... I bite my bottom lip and try to decide whether to call her or not. I decide not to. I don't want to intrude in their grief. They probably need to be alone. I dial his home number again; maybe he's home by now. Once again his answering machine picks up, and I decide to leave a message to show him that I care.  
  
I clear my throat. "Hi, Bosco. It's me. I...uh...I don't even know what to say. I'm just checking on you. Give me a call? I'm thinking about you. Bye."

I hit the end button and rest my hands in my lap, absently playing with the phone, thinking about Bosco. Suddenly, Fred's angry voice jerks me back to reality.

"You're awake. You haven't been home in two days."

Oh, God, not now. I can't deal with him and his accusations right now. "I know," I answer and put my head in my hands, hoping that he'll take the hint and leave me alone. No such luck.

He still sounds pissed when he replies, "You got nothing to say about it?"

Here we go.... He's always patronising me and now he's questioning me like a teen-ager, who's been violating the house rules – his house rules.

"It's this little girl...and I have to help her. She's being abused," I say hesitantly. It's hard to explain without saying too much.

"Huh. Any idea why?" he asks, and I'm actually staring to believe that he will understand this time.

"She has sick twisted parents, Fred. The whole thing is so awful." I can hear the touch of despair in my voice and I'm expecting to hear compassion and concern in Fred's voice.

But there's none. Instead, he raises his voice. "No, Faith. Why do you _have_ to help her? What makes you _have_ to?"

I shouldn't be surprised, I know that, but I'm still amazed at the total lack of compassion and understanding he's been showing lately.

I run my hand tiredly through my hair and try again. For some reason, I need him to understand this one. "I don't know. I guess if it was Emily, I'd want someone to help her."

"Yeah, I guess," he answers calmly.

"So you understand?" I ask hopefully.

"We all gotta do what we gotta do," he answers and leaves the room.

I close my eyes, and thank God that he at least didn't ask whom I was calling. But before I even have time to finish the thought, he peaks his head into the room again, and says in a cold, almost mocking voice, "And I guess that includes calling your partner in the middle of the night."

"Stop it, Fred!" I reply angrily. "He found out today that his bother was killed. I'm just checking that he's all right."

Fred rolls his eyes. "Of course, there's always something going on that he can't handle without your help, isn't there?"

"Fred!" I almost shout, because this is more than I can take. If he can't even show compassion to someone who's lost his own brother, just because that person is Bosco, then I don't know if I can live with him anymore.

I'm about to tell him that when he throws his arms in the air and says, "You know what? Do as you please! Call him all you want, whenever you want. I know he's always been more important to you than your family, but do you know what, Faith? I don't care anymore. I don't care at all!" and with that, he turns around and leaves.

"Come on, Bos! Answer!" I whisper desperately in the phone.

It's almost 4:00 and I still can't get hold of him. He doesn't answer his cell phone, and I keep getting his answering machine when I call his apartment. He hasn't called me back, and an hour ago I gave in and called his Mom. That only made me worry more, though, because she said he'd left almost five hours ago. She was very nice, said it was nice of me to care, but that she was sure he was OK. He'd rather be alone when something was bothering him, and I shouldn't worry because there was nothing strange about it at all. This was how it's always had been. He'd show up again when he felt better - he always has in the past.

I really wish I were as confident of that as she is - but I'm not. Because although she is his mom, and ought to be the person who knows him the best, I'm convinced that she's wrong this time. He's not OK. I can feel it in my gut. I need to find him.

I dial his cell phone number again – still no answer. "Bos, where are you?" I say in a whisper as I start pacing the floor in front of the television set.

"Mom?" Although the voice calling my name does so in a whisper, it startles me, and I jump in surprise.

I turn around and meet Emily's worried eyes. "Mom, why are you trying to get hold of Bosco in the middle of the night? Is something wrong with him?" she asks anxiously.

Of course she's worried. She's still one of his biggest supporters. How could I forget to tell her?  
  
"I don't know, honey, but I'm worried about him. His brother was found dead today and he was very upset about it. I've tried to get hold of him ever since I got home, but he's not answering any of his phones."

Emily gasps and covers her mouth with her hand. "Oh, Mom, that's awful! Poor Bosco!"

"I know."

"And you don't know where he might have gone?"  
  
"No," I whisper unhappily.

"Come on, Mom, think. There has to be some place he might go if he wanted to be alone, or some place he'd feel comfortable - some place special to him. Don't you two have a favourite spot or something?" she asks softly, looking at me with kind, compassion-filled eyes.

There's no trace of the anger and hate that's been there ever since she found out. I love her so incredibly much in this moment because - unlike Fred - she knows when it's time to put her own feelings aside in order to help those who need it. Right now, that person is Bos.

I sit down on the couch, and think about it for a few minutes, and I have to admit I do come up with one or two possible places for him to run to.

I look up at Emily, who's looking at me with expectantly eyes. "You're right. I do know a couple of places," I say hesitatingly.

"Good! Then go and look for him there - and don't worry, I'll handle Dad for you," she says calmly, giving me a small, encouraging smile.

"But I need a car for that, and I can't take the truck. I don't know when I'll be back," I reply unhappily.

"Isn't there anyone you can ask to help you look?" she asks carefully, as if she knew this is a touchy subject.

I run my hand over my hair. "I don't know, Em. Bosco doesn't have that many friends and he doesn't trust many people...." I trail off, begging her with my eyes to understand what I'm not saying.

She doesn't disappoint me, because she nods knowingly. The connection is still there, even though she hates me. She contemplates the problem for a few moments and then her face lights up. "How about Sully? He seems to care a lot about him."

Sully? Yeah, that might be a good idea. He knows exactly how fragile Bos is nowadays, and he was the one who told him Mikey was dead. Yeah, that might work.

I look over at Emily and say gratefully, "Thank you, Emily."

She nods. "You're welcome. Just go and make sure he's all right, OK?"

It's my turn to nod, and then I pick up the phonebook, and look up Sully's number. Sully picks up at the fifth ring. His voice sounds hoarse and grumpy and it's obvious that I woke him up. That makes sense. After all, it's the middle of the night.

"Hi, Sully. It's Faith. I need you to help me look for Bos. He's not answering his phone and he isn't at his Mom's. I'm worried about him."

When he answers he sound wide-awake. "Sure, I'll be outside your place in ten minutes, OK?"

"OK, and, Sul...."

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

He just murmurs something that I can't make out and hangs up the phone.

I hang up, too, check my purse for my off duty gun, and grab my coat from the coat rack. Just before I close the door, I hear Emily call softly, "Call me when you find him, OK?"

"Of course," I call back before I close the door and head downstairs to wait for Sully.


	16. Chapter sixteen

TITLE: Do you really want me?

AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith  
  
DISCLAIMER: Don't own any characters here, just the plot.

RATING: PG-13  
  
SPOILERS: Up to and including season five and my story "All that glitters is not gold."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I just wanna say thank you, Joey, for everything. I'm happy to have you as a beta. To all my reviewers: Thank you all for telling me what you think about this, and I care a great deal about what you think. If anyone wants to discuss the story with me feel free to mail me anytime : ) I know some of you wanted to have this before school started and, although I'm not sure when that is I butI fear that I'm too late...sorry... hope you like it anyway : )

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"So where're we gonna start looking?" Sully takes his eyes off the road for a brief moment to glance over at me.

"Under the bridge," I answer quietly, trying to keep my imagination from coming up with more horrible pictures of what could be the reason for Bosco's absence.

"What bridge?" The confusion in his voice tells me that he really doesn't have a clue what I'm talking about.

"The bridge where we used to hide when Bos wanted to duck calls...." I trail off when I realize what I'm saying. That is not something that Sully is supposed to know.

He glances over at me again. "Ducking calls, huh?" His tone of voice is somewhere between annoyed and amused and I can feel myself blush.

"Please, Sully, don't be mad. He didn't mean any harm and I didn't let him do it for long, I promise."

"Don't worry, Faith. I don't harm kids," he answers with a sarcastic smirk. "So which of all the bridges in New York is your hiding spot?"

I describe the way and soon we're there.

Sully stops the car and turns to look at me. "I don't see his car. You wanna get out and look around?"

I nod

"OK." He opens the glove department and hands me a torchlight. "I'll wait here."

I nod again and get out of the car. I hear the water hitting the shore. As I get closer, I call his name. I walk around for about five minutes, but I realize almost immediately that he's not here. If he was, he'd be at his favourite spot, on the stones closest to the water. I get back to the car and climb inside.

"Found him?" Sully asks kindly.

I shake my head. "No, he wasn't here." I can hear my voice wavering slightly, and realize in horror that I'm close to tears.

I know Sully has noticed it, too, because he puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it gently. "Don't worry, Faith. We'll find him."

"I know, but in what state?" I whisper in a small, pathetic voice.

Sully doesn't answer the question. Instead he starts the car. "Where to?" And then I know he's just as scared and worried as I am. He's just better at hiding his emotions.

We drive around for almost two hours, checking every spot and bar I can come to think of – but no Bosco. When the sun starts to rise, I'm starting to feel desperate and I can feel tears welling up in my eyes.

Once again, Sully asks, "Where to?"

I just look unhappily at him. "I don't know, Sul. I can't think of any other place where he could possibly be."

"Have you looked at his apartment?"

"No, but why would I do that? I've called him over and over again in the last five hours. He isn't there!" I'm both annoyed and disappointed that he's so stupid he doesn't even get something as simple as that.

"Maybe he is but doesn't feel like answering the phone," Sully states calmly.

I realize that the only one stupid around here is me. I can't believe I didn't think of that myself. How could something as simple as that be so hard to get?

Sully stops the car outside Bos' place. "You want me to come?"

I swallow hard and try to keep both my fears and tears at bay.

"Yeah, please. I don't know what I'm gonna find. I might need your help."

He nods in acknowledgement and then we both get out of the car. We climb the stairs to the fourth floor. Halfway down the hall, I stop outside number 45 and look over at Sully.

I know he can read the fear in my eyes because he gives me a small smile. "Just knock."

I raise my hand and knock carefully at the door. No answer. I try again, harder this time - still nothing.

I put an ear to the door, but there's not a sound to be heard from the apartment. "Bos," I call softly, "if you're there, please open the door. It's just me, Faith."

Still nothing.

"Do you have a key?"

I look up at Sully. I do have a key. Bosco gave it to me when we'd been partners for two years, when he realized that the bartender in his favourite bar had my number on his list of people to call if his regular costumers got too drunk to make it home on their own. I guess he wanted to spare us both the embarrassment of having to wake up his landlord in the middle of the night.... Over the years I've only used it twice, once when I helped him home from the hospital when he had been shot and fallen out of the window at the same day, and once when I hauled his drunken ass home from the bar the night we arrested Mikey. But both those times he was there with me when I opened the door. Using the key without him knowing I'm doing so, makes me feel uneasy – like I'm violating his space, and space is important for him; I know that all too well.

"Well, do you?" Sully asks, slightly annoyed when I fail to answer him right away.

I nod, and as if he could sense my uneasiness and hesitation, he holds out his hand. "Then give it to me."

I have the key in a little pocket - with a zip - inside my purse to keep me from losing it, but at the same time always having it if I should ever need it. I take it out and hand it over to Sully. He takes it out of my hand and unlocks the door, pushing it open for me to enter.

There's no light on in the apartment - at least none that reaches the dark hallway. It's not completely dark, though, because it's already morning and the early light of dawning allows me to make out the lines of the furniture against the walls.

"Bos," I call softly, as I carefully make my way through the apartment.

There's no answer but when I'm getting closer to the living room, I can hear the sound of someone breathing. I don't like it. I know I should be happy that he's breathing, since I've spent the whole night worrying that he wasn't, but I don't like the sound of it. It's the sound of someone that has to fight for each breath; it's the sound of someone on the verge of choking. I quickly run into the room and spot Bosco on the couch. His elbows are on his knees, his head is down and his whole body is shaking from the effort of trying to get enough air into his lungs. I stand paralysed in front of him. I'm terrified. What's wrong with him? Why is he breathing like this?

I turn to look at Sully, who's been following me closely the whole time, for support and I have a feeling I look just as terrified as I feel.

"Calm down, Faith, it's only a panic attack."

The way he says it makes it sounds like it's no big deal at all - and maybe it's no big deal to him, but from the look of it, it is to Bosco. And it sure is a big deal to me - very big. The last time I saw him like this we all thought that he was having a heart attack, and I have never been able to shake the feeling that the doctors were missing something when they said it was _only _a panic attack.

I'm just about to tell Sully that when he walks up to Bos and squats down in front of him. He puts his hand on Bosco's shoulder and starts talking to him in a calm, soothing voice, that I can't recall ever hearing before - at least not when he's talking to Bosco.

"Calm down, Bosco. It's OK. You're OK. You're not alone anymore, and everything is gonna be just fine."

I look in amazement how Bosco snaps out of his trancelike state, looks up at Sully and says shakily, between struggled breaths, "Sul..ly?"

It's not only the fact that he managed to get through to Bosco that amazes me, but more the fact that I've never seen him show this kind of confidence in anyone but me before. He trusts Sully, he really does, and for me that's kind of a miracle.

"Yeah, Bosco, it's me. Just concentrate on breathing, OK?"

Bosco nods and I can see how he tries to take deep, calming breaths.

"That's it, just breathe." Sully's tone of voice is the same, although now there's a hint of satisfaction in there, too.

After a minute or so, Bosco looks up at Sully again and asks in a small, shaky, almost pleading voice, "Fai...i...th?"

Sully smiles slightly. "She's right here."

And then he stands up, grabs me by the arm and pushes me toward Bosco. He looks up at me, and the heartbroken look on his face almost takes my breath away. I kneel down in front of him and put my hands on his shoulders.

"Oh, Bos, you should have called me," I whisper affectionately.

He doesn't answer. Instead he slides his arms around me, burying his face into my shoulder and starts crying, his whole body shaking with sobs. His actions catch me off guard. Considering the state of our relationship lately, I didn't expect him to show me such a heartbreaking trust and affection. I guess he's down to the bottom of all bottoms. My heart breaks for him and, although I don't want to, I start crying as well.

"Faith," Sully whispers.

I turn my head slightly to look at him, not caring that he's going to be able to see my tears.

"I'm leaving now."

"No," I whisper, slightly panicked. "Don't. I might need you."

"No, nervous breakdowns are your department." And with a small, almost mocking smile on his lips, he turns around and leaves.

I stare after him for a few seconds but then I turn my attention back to Bosco. Just like three years ago, I rub his back and whisper soothingly, "It's OK. It's all right. Everything is gonna be just fine."

But this time it doesn't seem to help because his sobs even increase. I tighten my embrace and move my hand up to his head, gently running it through his hair.

"Shhh, it's OK, Bos. Just let it out."

He clings into me like Charlie used to do when he was little and had had a bad dream, but I guess Bos' life is pretty much like a bad dream right now.

I hold him as tightly as physicals possibly and continue to speak soothingly in his ear. Eventually his sobs even out and finally - after what seems like hours – he stops crying and becomes perfectly still in my arms. I loosen my grip slightly, afraid that I'm cutting off his air supply. I expect him to pull away but he keeps clinging to me like I'm his lifeline. I pull away a little bit further, trying to get a look at him.

"Bos?"

He lets go of me and buries his face in his hands instead. I carefully run my hand over his hair and down the side of his face. I need to touch him, because I want him to know, without any doubt, that I'm here for him and that I love him. I need to touch him to soothe myself, because I love him beyond reason and his pain is my pain - and it huts like hell.

He takes his hands away from his face and wipes away the tears with angry movements, but I know he isn't angry. He's just embarrassed and wants to cover for it. He keeps his eyes downcast and that, and the way he speaks his reply in an almost inaudibly murmur, tells me I'm right.

"I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Bos. You're allowed to cry." I say it as a fact, making sure to keep the pity out of my voice. He hates pity.

He finally looks up and our eyes meet, his eyes are filled with gratitude. "Thank you – for coming."

I smile warmly at him. "Of course I'd come. Anything else was never an option."

"Why?" He asks the question quietly, and once again he's afraid to look me in the eyes.

"I'm your partner. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," I reply softly.

He jerks his head up and looks at me with both amazement and doubt in his beautiful blue eyes. "After all I did to you?"

"What did you do to me?"

He gives me a look that that says; "you're kidding me, right?"

"What did I _not _do to you? I got you shot. How's that for a start?"

The desperation in his eyes and voice cuts through my soul like a knife, and I feel an overwhelming need to find a way to stop him from torturing himself like this.

"Bos, it wasn't you. It was God, the devil, destiny, bad luck, Cruz, whatever you want, but it wasn't you."

He closes his eyes tightly and I wonder what memory he's trying to block out.

"Bos...," I say pleadingly.

He opens his eyes and I'm feeling like I'm drowning in his anguish.

"I should never have asked you. I had no right," he whispers barely audibly.

"I'm glad you did."

His eyes widen and he looks at me in disbelief. "Why?"

"Because that meant that you still trusted me in spite of everything I did to you." My voice is thick from unshared tears and it feels like I can't breathe.

"You didn't do anything to me."

"Yes I did. I rejected you."

"I deserved it."  
  
"No you didn't."

"Yes I did. You had no part in this – it was all me."

"It takes two to tango...."

He shakes his head and his eyes tear up. "Not when you're around me. I always hurt people I'm supposed to love: you, Ma, Mikey." He stops abruptly, trying to blink away his tears.

"Bos, please. Don't do this to yourself. It makes you sick - you know that - and you promised me, remember?"

I know I sound desperate but I just can't stand seeing him in this much pain. It's killing me, and right now, I'm afraid that his feelings of guilt and despair are going to kill him for real.

"Please, Faith, forgive me," he chokes out and starts crying again.

This time I'm the one taking him in my arms but, just as before, he clings into me for dear life.

"I have already forgiven you, Bos. I never really blamed you. I wasjust trying to survive," I whisper as soothingly as I can.

I can hear my voice shaking from all the emotions I'm trying to hold back. I can't believe that I really thought that hurting him like this would solve my problems. I have to be insane. He doesn't answer - just keeps crying softly and I can feel my shirt getting wet from his tears.

Then, suddenly, he pulls away and stands up abruptly.

"Bos?" I ask worriedly and stand up as well.

He's white as a ghost and I can barely make out the words in his reply. "I'm gonna be sick."

He runs for the bathroom and I can hear him getting sick. I quickly follow him. On my way there I take a towel form the closet, where I learned that he keeps them the last time I needed one, but that time he got sick because he was drunk. I wet the towel in the sink and then lean against the bathtub, waiting for him to finish. I don't dare touch him, because knowing him as well as I do, I know he's embarrassed as hell over this and probably doesn't even want me in the room. A short moment later he seems to be done but he doesn't move. He just keeps leaning over the toilet, and I'm starting to get worried.

"Bos?" I kneel down beside him and carefully wipe his face with the towel. He still doesn't move – he doesn't even flinch.

"Bos? You OK?" I'm even more worried now. He still doesn't answer, but at least he moves away from the toilet and leans against the bathtub. His eyes are closed and his face is an awful, ashen shade. Just as I'm staring to think I need to call for a bus, he finally speaks.

"I'm sorry. It's just that every time I think about that night I feel sick...." His voice trails off in an exhausted sigh.

All I want is to take him in my arms, but I don't think he'd like it, so I just put my hand on his knee and squeeze it gently. "It's OK, Bos. I told you before; you have nothing to be sorry for – and I understand.

"You do?"

I nod, although I know he can't see me with his eyes closed. "I bet it was really scary."

"It sure was. I thought you would die." He speaks the last part so quietly that I almost can't hear him.

I don't know what to say so I just squeeze his knee again. "Come on, Bos. Let's get you in bed. You need to rest. When was the last time you got a descent night's sleep, huh?"

"I can't really remember," he murmurs tiredly.

"Then come on," I coax gently, tugging on his hand.

"Just give me a minute."

"OK."

We sit in silence for a while and then he finally opens his eyes. "So Emily was right – you only did it to please Fred?"

I nod slightly. "I'm so sorry."

He swallows hard. "It's OK - I understand."

"You do?" I ask in surprise.

It's his turn to nod. "Yeah. He loves you, and he almost lost you because of me. He deserved to feel safe. He deserved to know that I wasn't a threat anymore."

I'm not so sure I agree, but that doesn't really matter right now. I pull pleadingly on his hand again. "Come on, Bos. You really need to rest."

He nods and slowly stands up, swaying slightly. I grab him around his waist to steady him. "You OK?"

"Yeah."

"You wanna lean on me?"

"Yeah...."

He sounds defeated and a great sadness is tugging my heart. I don't want him to feel defeated - I want him to feel loved. We're slowly making our way to the bedroom, but it's difficult, because he leans so heavily against me that I almost can't walk.

"You dizzy?"

"No, not really. Just tired."

Although, I'm still very worried for him I buy what he says because I know he's too exhausted to lie. Once inside his room he immediately lies down on the bed, but keeps his eyes trained on me. I take off his shoes and cover him with the blankets.

I sit down beside him. "You comfortable?"  
  
He nods and closes his eyes. I don't believe him because the expression on his face tells me differently. It tells me he's in pain.

"You in pain?"

"Yeah."

"Your stomach?"

"Yeah."

"Shouldn't you take some medicine, or something?"

"I already have."

I nervously chew on my bottom lip, not really knowing what to say or do next. My stomach is in knots and a lump has formed in my throat out of worry for him. Maybe I should take him to the hospital but he wasn't vomiting blood, and something tells me that right now, he's better off at home, in his own bed, than sitting in the waiting room over at Mercy for hours. Especially since he hates hospitals.

"Faith?"

"Yeah, Bos?"  
  
"I...."  
  
"It's OK, Bos. You can tell me."

I run my fingers lightly against the back of his hand, in an attempt to show him that I care and that he's safe. He opens his eyes and looks at me with a mix of embarrassment and despair. "I...." His voice trails off again.

I try to take my hand away, thinking that it's the physical contact that makes him feel uneasy but, to my surprise, he catches it and squeezes it so hard it almost hurts.

"I don't wanna be alone." His words come out in a rush and I know just how hard it is for him to admit something like that. He hates weakness – especially his own.

I squeeze his hand reassuringly, swallowing hard to keep myself from crying. I have to be strong. He's never needed me this much before, and I'm not about to let him down by letting my own emotions get better of me.

"You don't have to. I'll sit here with you until you fall asleep. Then I'll try to catch some sleep myself on the couch, but I'm not leaving until you wake up, OK?"

"OK."  
  
He closes his eyes, and I can tell that he's trying to calm himself by taking slow, deep breaths.

"That's it, Bos. Just relax," I say softly, gently rubbing my thumb over the back of his hand.

We sit like that for a while, and the only sound in the room is his heavy breaths and the ticking of his alarm clock. Just when I think he's managed to fall asleep, he opens his eyes to look at me and asks, with worry in his voice, "Isn't Fred gonna be pissed with you? For staying here, I mean?"

I smile warmly at him. "No, your daughter is covering for us."  
  
His eyes light up a bit with the mention of Emily, and there's a hint of a smile on his lips when he's thinking of the secret they share.

"She is, huh?"

I smile again. "Yeah."

"You're not angry with her, for that daughter thing?"

I squeeze his hand. "No, Bosco, I'm not. Don't worry, just try to get some sleep, OK?"

"OK," he answers obediently and closes his eyes again.

I watch him fall asleep and I can't stop myself from caressing his cheek. He doesn't stir, and I know he's finally resting peacefully. He's so beautiful. My thoughts drift back to the day he got all dressed up in a tux to go to the opera with Nicole. I don't think he's ever been more beautiful than that night. I know beautiful isn't a common word to describe males but handsome just doesn't cut it.

He looked so young, happy and innocent then. He was so full of life. That's all gone now. He's not that young anymore. All the emotional pain he's been going through lately marks his face, and he isn't full of life. He's more like an empty shell - but still he's the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He's still the one I love and my love seems to grow deeper for every day. I would do anything to put the mischievous sparkle back in his eyes again – if he'd only let me.

I sigh deeply and run my hand through his hair one more time - thinking that he needs a haircut - before standing up and walking into the living room. I collapse on the couch and for a few moments I just sit there, allowing myself the luxury of feeling nothing, before I pick up my cell phone to call Em.


	17. Chapter seventeen

TITLE: Do you really want me?

AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith

DISCLAIMER: Don't own a thing. Why isn't anyone surprised?

RATING: PG-13

SPOILERS: Up to and including season five up to the last two episodes, and my story "All that glitters is not gold."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: OK, so this is where I'll stop following the show's plot, and the reasons to that is basically because Bosco, getting shot the way he was in the show doesn't fit in this story. I think it's messy enough as it is. ;) and I don't think anyone would be any happier if I did another take on the season final or opener. A lot of writers – all better than me – have already taken care of that :D In this story Fred still left and cheated on Faith (I can't believe they gave me that one for free LOL) and poor Mikey is still dead, but there was no car bomb and no shooting at the hospital. Just an ordinary funeral. So here you are. The next chapter in my story, which I guess is now an AU one ;)  
  
BUT before you start, THANK YOU all for the wonderful reviews I'm speechless. :) And thank you, Joey. What would I ever do without you?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I rub my cheek with a piece of toilet paper, trying to get rid of the blood. I cut myself shaving and it annoys me. Not that the person I'm going to meet with this afternoon will notice but still it annoys me. Finally, the cut stops bleeding and I can continue to get ready. I button up my shirt and run my hands over my hair to smooth it down. I still haven't gotten used to how short it is, but I have to admit that Faith was right when she told me I'd feel better if I cut it.

It's been almost two months now since Mikey died. It's hard for me to accept and it still feels cruel and unfair but, even so, I feel better than I have in a very long time. It's all because of Faith. Ever since Mikey died she's been there for me in every way possible. She helped both Ma and me through the funeral and she's been calling me every morning to make sure I'm OK. If I'm not, she always comes over right away, to talk to me, or comfort me, or just hang around for a bit so I don't have to be alone. It's kind of amazing how she manages to make the demons go away just by merely being there but come to think of it – that's how it's always has been.

My stomach is better than it has bee in months, too, and for the first time since Faith got shot I feel like I'm in control of the things that happen around me. I miss Mikey like hell but it seems like I've finally learned how to deal with a loss, and of course Faith was the one who taught me how. She's amazing and I still haven't been able to figure out what I've done to deserve someone like her, but I've decided not to dwell on it. Instead I'm just going to be grateful for what I have.

Now, when I'm feeling OK enough to start acknowledging the world around me, I worry about her. I think something is bothering her. Maybe it's something with Fred. She's been spending way too much time with me lately for his likening. I should probably ask her but it's so damn unpleasant, considering that I'm most likely the reason for her problems – as always. I know I have to though, because she looks so pale, thin and sad. And I can only think of one other thing, except Fred, that could make her look that way, and that I'm not even going to think about that because I can't deal with it. I know it's my turn to be there for her. I just have to find the right moment. It's not going to be today, though, because it's our day off and I need to be there for someone else.

I'm going to meet with Emily. She called me and wanted to talk. She sounded anxious and lost and I have a feeling that it has something to do with why Faith looks so unhappy. I figured that being there for Em today might is going to give me a clue as to what's going on and make it easier to help Faith. I hope this whole thing with Em isn't going to get too complicated, because I'm not that good with kids and my advice usually stinks. Not to mention that you only have to take one look at the mess that's my life to know I have bad judgement. But I'm going to give it my best effort.

I spot her as soon as I enter the café. She's sitting alone at a table by the window and I get a feeling of déjà-vu. She looks so much like Faith that it's scary and I can feel all the emotions from that day in the restaurant rushing over me, but I quickly suppress them. If I'm going to be able to help Emily with whatever problem she has, I need to stay focused, not dwell on the past. As I approach the table she looks up and meets my gaze. I smile and sit down facing her.

"Hi, Em."

She grins at me. "Hi, Dad."

I can't help but grin myself and I know that kind of ruin the seriousness in my next reply.

"We need to stop this game, Em, before it gets us both in trouble."

But I know she gets the message, because she lowers her head and murmurs unhappily, "I know, I'm sorry."

I feel bad, after all, it's just a harmless joke, and if it makes her happy to call me Dad then what harm can it do? It's not like I have anyone who could get jealous....

"Hey, look at me." She looks up with an embarrassed look on her face. "It's OK. You can call me Dad if you want to."

She smiles. "No. That's OK. I was just joking around."

I nod before asking, "So what do you wanna talk about?"

She looks down at the tabletop and bites her lip the same way Faith always does when she's nervous.

"Emmy? What's wrong?" I coax gently, starting to get really worried.

She lifts her head to look at me. "Did you work with Mom yesterday?"

I nod, feeling slightly puzzled. Why wouldn't I ride with Faith and, more importantly, why doesn't Em just ask Faith herself?

"Did she seem OK?"

The question immediately makes my heart start racing. Why is she asking that? Why wouldn't Faith be OK? The only reason I can think of is that she's sick again, and she can't be. She just can't, because there's no way I could make it through another day without her. There has to be another reason – anything - but she can't be sick again. She just can't.

I swallow hard, trying to collect myself before answering. "Yeah, she seemed fine, a little tired maybe. Why?"

Emily fiddles with her straw, just like Faith did that day. "Just wondering."

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" I ask kindly, hoping that she isn't going to be able to hear the fear in my voice. She's here because she needs me to support her, not to calm my fragile nerves.

"I haven't seen her for a while."

Her voice is very low - almost a whisper - and she refuses to look at me. Her reply just increases my confusion. I can't understand why she hasn't seen Faith for a while. It was long ago since we had to work overtime, and this past week she hasn't spent so much time with me either because I've been feeling OK enough to be alone.

Maybe the stupid kid has run away? No. That's not possible. Faith would have been too freaked out about it not to tell me.

"How's that?"

She looks unhappily at me. "She hasn't told you, has she?"  
  
"Told me what?"

I hardly recognize my voice. It sounds hoarse and thick, but that's because I'm so afraid I can barely breathe. I really fear her answer. I'm scared to death that she's about to tell me that Faith has got cancer again that she's going to die, and I fear that if she tells me that, I'm going to have another panic attack.

She takes a deep breath. "We don't live with her anymore. Dad left her and we had to come with him."

"What?"

"Dad left her and took us with him. I haven't seen her more than a couple of times the past two months," she repeats patiently.

"He left her two months ago?"

She nods in reply. I know I'm sounding like a stupid parrot, but at this point I'm more than confused and I'm having a really hard time sorting out my feelings. They are a confusing mess of relief, dismay and anger. I'm so relieved that what I feared the most isn't happening, I could cry. She's not going to die from me, but it's horrible that Fred has left her and I feel sorry for her. Sorry and guilty, because I know he probably left her because of me but I'm pissed, too – really pissed. I thought we'd agreed on not keeping secrets anymore but that obviously meant that I agreed to that – not her. The anger finally wins, and for a moment I'm forgetting that I'm here to help Em and let my emotions get better of me.  
  
"I can't believe she didn't tell me."

Emily looks at me and I know she can tell I'm angry, because her next reply sounds like a plea. "Please, Bosco, don't be mad at her. She probably didn't want to burden you with more bad stuff right now. She was probably afraid you'd feel guilty and get sick again."  
  
I close my eyes and all the anger disappears. As usual, it's all because if me. If I hadn't been so damn weak and pathetic, she'd have told me and then I could have been there for her when she needed me. Instead, I have to sit here and hear her daughter pleading with me not to judge her. I really am a loser. I wish I knew why Faith chooses to stick with me over and over again.

"I'm sorry," I murmur apologetically.

Em twists her hands nervously. "You can't be angry with her because she really needs you right now. This with Dad cheating on her is really getting to her."

I stare at her in disbelief and I can feel anger build up inside again.

"Did he _cheat_ on her?"

Emily looks down again, looking embarrassed – like she was the one guilty as charged. "Yeah, but it really wasn't her fault. I know she tried."

I nod reassuringly. "I know."

We sit in silence while I'm trying to sort things out. I can't believe it's true. I can't believe that Fred really cheated on her. I thought he loved her. He really is a jerk. No wonder Emily wants to call me Dad. Right now I want to kick his ass more than anything, but I'm relieved, too. I'm relieved that, for once, I'm not the one responsible for her problems. Poor Faith. We really need to talk about this. I need her to know that I'm OK now - that I'm ready to take care of her for a change.

As if Emily could read my mind, she replies, "You need to take care of her. She needs you."

Her voice sounds shaky and I feel sorry for her. Divorces are always hardest on the kids. I know that from experience and it isn't hard to tell she's very worried of Faith, and so am I. She really hasn't looked so hot lately.

"I will, I promise. Don't worry about it, OK? I'll take care of her for you," I reply firmly.

She smiles slightly. "Good."

Again, we sit in silence for a couple of minutes and then Emily starts talking again, quietly, hesitation evident in her voice.  
  
"Do you like my Mom?"

I'm too stunned to be able to form a reply; I just stare dumbly at her. What kind of question is that, and what on earth makes her ask something like that?

She bits her bottom lip and when she speaks again she almost sounds scared. "Do you?"

I realize that I have to give her an answer before she starts to make assumptions I don't. I clear my throat. "Of course I like your Mom. You ought to know that by now. I think she's great. She's my best friend, and she's always there for me, no matter what, and I love her for it. So, of course I like your Mom. Why do you ask?"

She dodges my question to ask another one. "You think she's pretty?"

Once again I just stare at her. What the hell is this about? I'm really not following and I'm stating to feel completely lost. I know teen-age girls are difficult to figure out. Hell, all women are. But this is just too much. But I know she's hurting because of what has happened with her parents and that I need to go easy on her.

"Emmy, what's this all about?" I ask gently.

She looks down at her hands again. "Nothing."

"Come on, Em, you're not expecting me to buy that, are you? You know I'm not that stupid."

"I just wanna know if you think she's pretty," she answers defensively, but I can hear that she's close to tears.

"And why's that important for you to know?"

She doesn't answer, just keeps looking down at the tabletop, playing with her straw.

I sigh. I've never been able to understand women but I know from experience that your best option is to give them what they want, and Emily probably isn't an exception.

"I don't know, OK? I haven't really thought about it. She's my partner and best friend. I don't look at her that way. I'm sorry. Can you now, please, tell me what this is all about?"  
  
She looks up at me, and the look on her face is so heartbreakingly sad that I want to hug her.

"Because I want you to like her."

"But, Em, I do like her – just not that way," I reply kindly.

"But I want you to like her that way."

She both looks and acts like a stubborn five-years- old and I'm totally lost. I don't get any of this. I'm starting to fear that her parents' separation has made her mentally ill, but I decide to give it one more shot because I have a feeling this is something I need to understand.

"Why?"

"Because she loves you."

Are the shocking statements of today never going to end? I don't believe what she's saying because I know - beyond any doubt - that it's not true, and there's only one explanation to why she would think such a thing: Fred. He's always been ridiculously jealous of me – the reason why are beyond me but it fits perfectly. If he claims that she loves me instead of him, he has a perfect excuse to justify his behaviour, and he was probably hoping to turn the kids against her by feeding them with that lie. God, he really is a bigger ass than I thought and I'm going to make sure he gets a good ass kicking, but first I need to make Em understand that this is just a sick game Fred's playing to get to Faith.

"Em, that isn't true and deep inside I think you know that. I love your Mom, a lot, but only as a friend but you don't have to worry, I'll take care of her and be there for her, OK? I know this thing with your parents not living together anymore is hard and confusing, but it's important that you understand that, right now, you can't believe what either of them are saying about each other. They're just trying to be mean. I know that sounds cruel but unfortunately that's how we grown-ups work."

"You don't understand; Dad never told me that - she did."

For the third time this day, all I can do is to stare at her. Is this nightmare never going to end? No matter what I say, things seem to get worse with every minute that goes by and I wonder if it's me, Emily or Faith that's losing it. There's no chance she really said something like that, right? But the look on Emily's face tells me she probably did. I really wish I were a bit smarter because this is far too complicated for me to grasp, but, once again, I have a feeling I really need to understand this before it ends up in disaster.

I take deep breath in order to pull myself together and ask carefully, "When did she tell you that?"

"She didn't tell me at first. I figured it out myself. When she said she needed to go back to work in order to be there for you I saw it in her eyes."

I feel relieved. So this is what it's all about, an illusion in the imagination of a romantic teen- aged girl.

"Em...," I start, but she cutes me off.

"No, Bosco, listen to me. I know you think I'm imagining things but I asked her about it and she said she did, but she looked unhappy when she said it and I realized that you didn't feel the same way. I told her it served her right for betraying us all."

Her eyes are filled with guilt and regret and suddenly I know for sure that she's telling the truth, because the only reason for her to lie about this is to hurt Faith and it's clear to me that that's not what she wants. She's desperately trying to make life easier for her mother.

I run my hands over my hair in frustration. "Did she tell you how long this has been going on?"

"I got the impression she always has. Kind like from the day she met you."

I can't believe it's true. I don't want it to be true because that means that what we have is just an illusion. That means that's been lying to me, not just every now and then, but the whole fucking time.

"You're not angry, right?" Emily asks nervously and I can tell I've scared her again.

I force a smile on my lips. "No, Em, I'm not angry. Just a bit overwhelmed."

She doesn't seem convinced. "You can't be angry. She didn't mean any harm. She's a good person, much better than Dad because she never acted on it, and you promised to take care of her, remember?"

Better person, my ass! A notorious, coward liar that's what she is. I force another smile. "I know, and I will, OK?"

She nods uncertainly. "OK, I need to go now."

"That's OK. I have some things to do myself," I reply and stand up.

We leave the café at the same time. She turns around and waves at me, and I force one last smile. I don't feel like smiling one bit. I feel like hitting something because I'm angry as hell. I can't believe she really did this to me. I can't believe she built our whole partnership on a lie. All those years, all those times I trusted her, all those times I thought she cared about me because she was my friend... and it was all just a damn lie! The truth is that she was probably just waiting for an opportunity to get inside my pants. I wonder what she was thinking all the times she touched me, when she'd hold me in her arms. The thought makes me feel sick and with angry steps, I'm starting to walk down the street toward her apartment. I totally ignore the voice deep inside my head, telling me that I'm wrong and jumping to conclusions – as always. And I refuse to look at all the good marks her help and support has left in my soul. The very same marks I swore I'd never fail to see again when I sat by her bed that night at the hospital, because all I can think of is that she's been lying to me and that she has a hell of a lot of explaining to do.


	18. Chapter eighteen

TITLE: Do you really want me?

AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith

SUMMARY: What if Faith did love Bosco....

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters. Just borrow them for my own pleasure. :)

RATING: PG-13

SPOILER: Up to and including season five – most of it anyway, and my story "All that glitters is not gold."

FEEDBACK: Yes, please : ) and feel free to mail me anytime. :)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Long time since the last update....I'm very sorry but the reasons I like fanfiction better than reality kind of made me stay in there way too long. ;) Plus that another story distracted me, but that's a whole other story ;)

To those of my wonderful reviewers (I love you all :D ) who told me Faith isn't like Bosco says; You're right! Of course she isn't, but he's Bosco and he hates the things he can't control and that's one of the reason he's so angry at her. : )Finally, because any author's note of mine would be incomplete without it, a big THANK YOU to Joey for all her support.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

I put the teapot and the plate with the sandwich down on the coffee table and drop down on the couch, letting a sigh escape my lips. I grab the remote and start flipping through the channels but after a couple of minutes I give up. There's nothing on TV that I want to watch right now. I turn it off and enjoy the silence, and the luxury of being completely alone on a day off. I have to admit that I thought I'd feel lonely when Fred and the kids left. The feeling of despair and complete loneliness I felt that day at the restaurant, when he told me it was over, scared me to death at the time. It even forced the rage and feeling of betrayal over his unfaithfulness away, leaving me feeling lost and lonely like a child. Now what? What am I supposed to do now? Without my husband and kids to care for? The answer was - as always - take care of Bosco.

The death of his brother left him in a horrible condition mentally. I have to admit that it surprised me - almost scared me. I mean, I know he's very fragile nowadays and that he isn't the same anymore as he was when I first met him. I know he isn't superman - I really do, and still his complete lack of ability to deal with his loss surprised me. He has always seemed kind of untouchable to me - like nothing could ever really destroy him. Even after his breakdown three years ago he came back pretty much the same as he was before. Like a kid who stands up and brushes the dust of his pants after a fall before going back to play again, like nothing has happened - but not this time. This time he really was a wreck and it scared me, still does actually, because I need him to be strong. He's the only one I have left and I know that I can't put the reaction to the things that have happened in my own life away forever. Sooner or later the reality, with all its ugliness, is going to catch up with me and then I'm going to need him.

I can't believe how much time I've spent with him lately in order to keep him form going over the edge. The first three weeks after the funeral he just couldn't't stand the thought of being alone. So when he wasn't with his Ma, he wanted, _needed,_ me to be around and why wouldn't I be? It's not like I have anything better to do nowadays.... I even managed to keep him from ending up at the hospital again, although I'm sure it was a close call in the beginning. Sully was extremely worried about it, telling me over and over again that I had to watch him carefully. But he had nothing to worry about, I'm a mom, I know how to keep people healthy. I made him eat and stayed with him almost 24/7 in order to make sure he slept, and obviously it worked.

He's better now, though. It seems like he's going to pull through and I can't help but feel a bit proud that we made it – again. This past week he's been OK enough to be able to be alone every time I have called to check on him, and that's a relief. I was beginning to think that he wasn't going to make it through this time - that he would remain a mental wreck forever.

In spite of how hard this has been on Bos, these two months have been great for me. To be able to be near him, to talk to him, to touch him, in a way even being allowed to love him, is soothing in itself and makes the sorrow over my destroyed marriage, and the loneliness following in its trace, so much easier to bearThe way we are nowadays has me thinking that if I told him I loved him; he'd say it back. I know it's just wishful thinking but I've never felt this close to him before.

A loud knock on the door jerks me out of my thoughts. I frown slightly. Who can that be? I'm not expecting any visitors today. The kids are with Fred, and Bosco said he would see me at work tomorrow but maybe it's him anyway. Maybe he feels lonely. I stand up and go over to the door, peaking through the peak hole. It's Bosco outside and I can't help but smile. I was right – it was him. The thought that he can't keep away from me makes me feel warm inside.

I unlock the door and hold it open for him to enter. "Hi."

The smile on my face quickly disappears when he brushes past me without a word.

"Bosco?"

He turns to look at me and the way he looks makes me really worried. He's pale and seems out of breath. I wonder what could possible have happened to get him this worked up. He looks like he's on the verge of having a panic attack and his eyes have that haunted, angry look that I hate so much. The one that says, "I hate the world."

"Bosco, what's wrong?"

He doesn't't answer, just looks at me wide-eyedand I can tell he's struggling hard to calm his breathing.

"Come on, let's sit down," I suggest, gently putting my hand on his shoulder.

He immediately shrugs it off with angry movements. "Don't touch me!"

Both his reply and his actions surprise me and I frown slightly. It has been a while since he was this touchy when it came to physical contact, but - on the other hand - it has been a long time since he was his old self. This past week he has come very close, though, so I guess it's inevitable but I'm still very worried. Whatever this is about it's hitting him hard and I really hope he isn't about to shut me out again, because then we're going to be back to square one in no time.

"Bosco, what's going on?" I ask gently.

He turns around to face me. The rage in his eyes is enormous, and his voice has a cold, angry tone. If I didn't know him as well as I do, I'd be scared. "Well, that's what I wanna know, too. Why don't you tell me?"

He practically chokes out the words and his inability to breathe properly seems to get worse with every passing second. I know I have to find a way to make him calm down or he's going to have a full blown panic attack within minutes.

"Bosco, please come and sit down. You need to calm down and start breathing, OK? Just come and sit here on the couch and breathe, please? I promise we will sort out what ever is going on, but you need to calm down first, OK?"

I keep my voice soft but firm because I've learned through these past couple of months that that's what works best when he's worked up like this.

He glares angrily at me, like I was the one who'd betrayed him this time, but just as I thought, he humors me and sits down on the couch and starts to concentrate on taking deep breaths. Considering his outburst earlier I don't dare touch him, so instead I try to sooth him by only using my voice.

"That's it, Bos, just breathe. Everything's gonna be OK."

"No it's not," he replies shakily and looks up at me.

The expression in his eyes is something between disappointment, anger, sadness and fear and for the first time in a very long time I can't read him. I really don't have a clue on what could have made him this upset.

"Yes it is. There's never anything so bad it can't be fixed, remember?" I say firmly.

That's a kind of mantra I have been giving him as a comfort through all this with Mikey. A way of making him believe that there's always going to be another, better, day.

He doesn't't answer, just stares at me, and for a moment the anger in his eyes disappears and the despair that he's been hiding behind it becomes visible. It's a kind of despair so unfathomable that it takes my breath a way and makes me feel like I'm getting choked. It only lasts for a few moments, though, then the anger is back again and when he speakshis voice is hard and cold. "Trust can never be rebuilt."

I frown slightly. I'm really not following. "What happened today, Bos? Please tell me what happened," I coax gently.

He continues to stare at me and the hard, cold, almost cruel look in his eyes makes me feel uneasy. "I saw Emily today and she told me some really interesting stuff."

Shit! He knows about Fred. Well, that explains a lot of his anger but not all of it. Of course he's angry because I didn't't tell him right away, but is it really possibly that he could get this worked up just because I didn't't tell him that? Maybe... he's kind of unpredictable nowadays.

"Please, Bos, don't be mad. It's not that I don't trust you. I just thought you had enough to worry about as it was. I didn't't want to add to it by making you worry about me, too."

"I don't understand why you keep treating me like I'm made of glass. I'm not _that _fragile!" he practically yells.

I have to bite my tongue to keep myself from telling him that the fact that I have spent practically every free minute the last three months at his apartment, trying to keep him from having a complete break down, and that fact that he just showed up on my door-step on the verge of a panic attack, proves that he's just _that _fragile. But I don't think that would make anything any better so I don't. Instead I decide to try to reason with him.

"Bos, please listen to me...."  
  
He cuts me off. "But that's not even the biggest issue here, Faith. She told me something else, too. Something really interesting – something about your love-life."

I swear my heart has stopped beating. No. She can't have told him, can she? No, please, she can't hate me that much, but his next reply tells me she does.

Hetiltshis head to the left slightly and asks in an angry, mocking voice, "Is there anything you wanna tell me, Faith, huh? Something important, like that you love me or something"

I close my eyes. I want to die because I know my worst nightmare has come true. Not only does he know that I love him but he hates it, too, and why wouldn't't he? I have always known that the fact that I love him would disgust him. I'm not the kind of woman he likes and I can't offer him the kind of relationship he wants. He doesn't't want me, period. Never has and never will. I have always known that, and that's one of the biggest reasons why I never told him. I knew that if he ever found out, I'd lose him in a heartbeat and I curse myself for letting his behaviorthe last couple of months fool me into believing otherwise. I'm starting to feel numb as I look into his cold, angry eyes. The truth is that I can't remember ever seeing him this angry with me before and I know I'm doomed. There's no going back from this. I don't know what to say because I know nothing I say can make it any better, but I try anyway.

"Please, Bos, don't be mad I...." I start pleadingly but he immediately cuts me off.

"So, it's true then?"

I just nod because what could I possible say to make this better? I love him and he hates it. That's the simple truth, and it's not like I could make it all go away all of a sudden when I haven't been able to do it for twelve years – despite my best efforts.

"She said you always had, since the day you met me. Is that true, too?"

I nod again.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?!" he shouts angrily.

"I didn't think you'd like it," I answer quietly.

"You're damn right I wouldn't! And I don't like it any better now. How the hell could you do this to me, Yokas?!"

I swallow hard. I can't remember when he last called me _Yokas _but it sure was a long time agoThe feeling of loss is alreadystarting to consume me, but somewhere deep inside I'm hurt, too. He makes it look like I just have committed a crime or something and that feels very unfair. All I ever did was to love him and it sure as hell was a big mistake, but it wasn't a crime.

"Why are you so angry?" I ask defensively. "As far as I know it isn't a crime to love someone."

"Why am I so angry? How dare youask me that, what the hell do you think? For twelve years I thought I had a friend that I could trust. A friend that would always be there for me no matter what – unconditionally! And then I suddenly find out that all she ever wanted, all theseyears, was to get inside my pants! How do you think that feels, huh? I trusted you, Faith. I trusted you! "

I close my eyes again in an attempt to stop my tears from falling. I don't want him to see that I'm crying, but still I can't stop myself. His words cut through my soul like a knife and it hurts so much I want to die. I can't believe that he really thinks I would ever do something like that. I can't believe he thinks that myloving him is about sex. I love him. I love him so much that I'd die for him – actually I almost did - and it has nothing to do with sex, nothing. It never has. The truth is that if all I wanted from him was sex; he'd probably had given it to me if I asked. He sleeps with anyone as long as there're no commitments or conditions connected with it. I want to tell him that. I want to yell back, to hurt him like he hurt me, but I can't. I'm too humiliated and devastated and I know he's right – at least partly. In a way I did deceivehim by not telling him the truth and the problem is that my only reason for that is pure selfishness. I knew he'd leave if I told him and I knew I'd never be able to get through the day without him, so I just kept my mouth shut, telling myself I wasn't lying to him. The problem is that hiding something from someone gets unpleasantly close to lying.

"Please, Bos. It was never like that. This isn't about sex. - never has been," I say in a humiliated whisper, desperately trying to keep my voice from shaking.

He narrows his eyes. "No? Then what is it about?"

"Need," I whisper painfully, feeling tears running down my cheeks. "It's all about need. I knew you would leave if I told you and I needed you to be able get through the day."

"Do you have any idea how selfish that is?" he asks in disbelieve. "And don't you dare think that crying is gonna do you any good!" he adds warningly when he notice the tears on my cheeks.

I look down at my hands and swallow hard, willing myself to stop crying. But it doesn't help. This hurt too much, not only am I losing him but he hates me, too, and worst of all; he thinks that all I've ever done for him was because I wanted to have sex with him. I want to be mad at him but I can't. I love him too much.

"I know, Bos, and I'm sorry. Really, really sorry, but please believe me when I say that I'd never tried to take advantaged of your vulnerability – never. I love you too much to ever do something like that."  
  
My voice is shaking and my tears are running freely down my cheeks. I know I shouldn't cry and I know I shouldn't tell him that I love him, but it's not like I'm ever going to see him again after today anyway. He said crying wasn't going to do me any good but still I can see his features soften and when he speaks again he isn't yelling anymore.

"You lied to me, Faith. You lied to me the entire time. You lied to me for twelve years."

The pain and hurt in his eyes make me cry harder because hurting him is the last thing I ever wanted to do, and still that seems to be the only thing I'm good at.

"I didn't lie."

"You hid the truth - that's the same thing."

He speaks the words quietly and all the anger in his voice is gone. Instead he sounds sad and defeated.

I burry my face in my hands and start to cry even harder and my reply comes out as a choked, shaky whisper.

"I'm so...o sor...ry, Bos. I'm so so...r...ry. I didn't mean to hu...u...rt you. I just no....o...t live witho....ut you. I just couldn't."

I know exactly how pathetic I'm sounding and I hate myself for it, but I can't help it. Bosco is everything to me, and I will gladly sacrifice my dignity if there's even the tiniest chance to keep him with me.

"Well, you better find a way because I'm out of here, and I don't wanna see you anywhere near me again! Do you hear me? If you can't find another job, let me know and I'll try to find one for myself instead."

The anger is back in his voice and I just nod in reply.

"But you can always tell Swersky you need him to transfer me because I blackmailed you to be with me. After all, that's what he thinks I do anyway, right?" he adds sarcastically.

I look up at him through my tears and say pleadingly, "Please, Bos, don't act like this. Can't we at least be friends?"

I can't stand the thought that the last words he'll ever speak to me will be angry. He just stares at me for a long moment, and when he speaks again his voice is tired and if I didn't know better I'd say there's tears in his eyes.

"That's what I always thought we were." And with that he turns around and leaves the apartment.

I slide down on the floor and curl up on my side, crying hysterically. I have never felt this lonely before. Fred is gone; he has left me for another woman, taking my kids with him, and now I've lost the only person I had left. My secret finally caught up with me and made me lose the only man I ever truly wanted. The one person I thought I could count on to stand by my side forever, and now I know that I lied to him again. There are things so bad they can't be fixed. I have lost everything and right now I can't think of one single reason to keep living.


	19. chapter nineteen

TITLE: Do you really want me?

AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith

RATINGS: PG-13

DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me. I just borrow them to have some fun. ; )

SPOILER: Up to and including season five and my story "All that glitters is not gold."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm back! And I'm so very sorry that this update took so long to get out. It has been done forever but my computer broke down and it took two weeks to fix it : ( and there was no way for me to get it out. So please forgive me and I'll try to make it up to you by putting up a new update ASAP!

For you who have been worried that I would drop the story all together: don't worry about that ever again, because unless something happens to me it's not going to happen. That's not how I work. : )

Well, enough of this talking; here's the next chapter. :D

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I slowly change into my uniform, watching my hands shake. I feel like crap. After the confrontation with Faith last night, I went home and tried to calm down. I couldn't. Instead I ended up having another panic attack, and since Faith is the only one who seems to be able to calm me down - and she was the reason I had one in the first place - it ended up being a very bad one. I thought I was going to die and it left me exhausted but unable to sleep. Now I'm so tired it feels like I can barely stand. I know I probably shouldn't even be here but I can't stand the thought of being alone in my apartment all day. It gives me way too much time to think of Faith and her betrayal. I still can't believe that she has been in love with me all these years without telling me. The fact that she admitted that her reasons for not to tell me were purely selfish only makes me angrier. "Needed me to be able get through the day" – what a load of crap!

She had everything, a husband who loved her, two beautiful kids and a job she obviously loved – what the hell would she need me for? She must be nuts and I have every right to be angry. I know I do, but still I have an unpleasant, nagging feeling that tells me that even, though, I'm angry I went too far when I confronted her. It was wrong of her not to tell me. It was wrong of her not to give me a chance to decide what I thought about the whole thing, and it was wrong of her not to give me a chance to get out of something as complicated as this. But I have a feeling I was unfair when I accused her of trying to get inside my pants. Truth is that she had a lot of opportunities to take advantaged of me, but she never did. She practically lived with me for three months and never once did she try to do something I didn't ask her to do.

In twelve years she has never tried to touch me unless she had to check me out when I was injured or trying to sooth me, and even then she let me take the first step. Whatever she wanted with this, it wasn't to get laid but it doesn't matter. I'm still angry with her for keeping something as important as this from me for so many years. The thought of her tears bothers me, too. I'm not used to see her crying like that. She's usually too proud to let anyone see how much they have hurt her and how vulnerable she is. The desperate look in her eyes, the way she didn't even try to defend herself when I accused her of all sorts of ugly things, makes me feel uneasy – almost sick…but I refuse to feel sorry for her. I can't be mad at her if I feel sorry for her and I need to be mad at her, because I'm the betrayed, injured party here and she's the bad guy.

I can feel my chest tightening again and try to take a deep breath. I have to calm down or I'm going to end up having another panic attack, and that's the last thing I need right now. I straighten my tie and secure my locker, ready for roll-call. When I look up, I see Sully standing at his locker, looking over at me with a worried expression on his face.

"You OK, Bosco?"

I nod reassuringly. "Yeah."

The look on his face tells me he doesn't believe me but he just nods back. "So, where's Faith?"

"How the hell would I know?" I answer defensively.

He looks a bit surprised by my outburst and shrugs. "You two are spending a lot of time together. I just assumed you had talked to her."

I narrow my eyes. "What do you mean by 'spending a lot of time together.?'"

He frowns back. "You know perfectly well what I mean. What's wrong with you today?"

I don't answer, just brush past him through the door.

"So what's wrong with Faith? She got the flu?" Sully asks calmly and gazes over at me.

I turn my head to look at him and say in an icy tone of voice, "I told you I have no idea. Actually, I don't give a damn!"

The truth is I do, because, although I don't want to be, I'm worried. I know she probably called in sick to avoid me since I told her to stay away, but still I can't help worrying that there's something wrong with her. I feel angry at myself. What the hell is wrong with me? She betrayed me and she doesn't deserve my concern.

Sully sighs loudly. "So you two are fighting again?"

I just continue to stare out through the car window without answering.

"Care to tell me what it's about this time?"

"Believe me, you don't wanna know," I answer bitterly.

"Come on, Bosco. It can't be that bad."

"Believe me it is."

"Well, I can't believe you if you don't tell me."

"It's none of your damn business!"

"OK, you're right. But, Bosco, whatever she has done; don't be too hard on her, OK? She has really been there for you these past couple of months, remember?"

I can feel the rage rushing through my veins once more at the mention of "how she's been there for me." I can't stand the thought of her reasons for doing so – I just can't.

"I don't care! She lied to me. She betrayed me! She's a traitor, Sully. A TRAITOR!"

The way I shout the last part almost causes me to lose my breath because my chest is tightening again.

Sully looks at me in surprise. "Gee, Bosco. What did she say to you? Did she tell you she loves you or something?" he asks and chuckles at his own stupid joke.

"As a matter of fact she did, and it's not a damn joke, Sullivan! It's serious!"

He just stares at me in disbelief. "She actually told you that?"

"Yeah, she did. Pretty unbelievable, don't you think?"

He nods. "Yeah, really. I never thought she had enough guts to tell you."

"Excuse me? You knew about this? She told you?"

I'm pissed beyond belief. I can't believe she told Sully. Who else has she told? The whole freaking precinct house?

"Of course she didn't, but she didn't have to. It's almost impossibly to miss." He looks strangely at me. "Please don't tell me you never figured it out?"

"How was I supposed to know? SHE NEVER TOLD ME!!" I'm so angry that I'm shaking and it starting to get hard to breathe again.

"You mean you never saw it?"

"Saw what?"

"The way she looks at you?"

"What way?"

He sighs loudly. "Never mind, I forgot what a self-absorbed jerk you can be."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

He sighs again. "You worked with her for twelve years, Bosco, and you never once noticed that she worships the ground you walk on. Doesn't that seem a bit self-absorbed to you? Why did you think she put up with you all these years? Out of the goodness of her heart?"

"I thought she liked me," I reply darkly.

Sully smiles. "She does."

"Not that way, idiot! She lied to me! She betrayed my trust! She's…."

I can't finish my sentence because my chest is tightening to the point where I don't have enough air to breathe, never-the-less talk.

Sully looks worriedly at me. "Bosco, you OK?"

I can't answer him. Fact is I can barely hear him because it takes all my concentration to get enough air into my lungs. The car stops and then the passenger door opens and I know that Sully is crouching down by my side.

I can feel his hand on my shoulder and hear that calm, soft voice that makes me feel safe and coerces me to do as I'm told.

"Breathe, Bosco. You need to calm down. Just breathe, OK

"Here, rinse your mouth," Sully says calmly and hands me a bottle of water.

I try to take it, but my hands are shaking so much I end up dropping it on the ground.

Sully bends over and picks it up, then squats down in front of me again. "Here. Let me help you."

His voice is gentle and filled with worry and I'm disgusted by my own weakness. I push his hands away. "No, I don't need any water."

He sighs lightly and stands up again. "OK."

"What's the time?"

He looks at the watch on his wrist. "Almost six."

Six? That means I have been having my little breakdown for over an hour. If I felt crappy when I arrived at work today, it's nothing compared to how I feel now. Not only did I have another panic attack, but I have also thrown-up at least three times. Poor Sully. I'm actually starting to realize why he tries to avoid working with me.

"I guess that means we're ducking calls," I say smartly, although my voice is still a bit shaky.

He makes a face. He has never appreciated my sense of humor but when he answers his voice is still soft and laced with concern. "No. We aren't. I called Central half an hour ago and told them I was taking my sick partner home."

I look at my hands, feeling strangely touched by his words. "Thanks."

He just nods in return. "Come on, I'll drive you to Mercy."

My eyes widen. "No way, Sullivan!"

"Bosco…."

"No, listen to me; I just need to get home and get some sleep, that's all. I'm fine, I promise."

He just raises his eyebrows in response.

I tiredly put my head in my shaky hands. "Please, Sully…I just wanna go home and sleep."

He shakes his head determinately. "No, Bosco, not a chance. I'm sorry, but you're in no shape to be on your own."

I can tell he's not going to budge. "Then take me to my Ma's."

He looks doubtfully at me. "You sure? I mean, does she know about this?" He makes a vague gesture toward my sorry form.

I shrug. "Doesn't matter, I'll tell her I'm sick."

"OK, then, put your legs back in the car. But I'm gonna walk you to the door," he says warningly.

I do as he tells me and then shrug once more. "Whatever."

He shakes his head and gives me a look that tells me that he wonders how he ended up in this mess, but he doesn't say anything. He just starts the car and drives toward my mother's house.

"Maurice?" Ma looks surprised when she opens the door.

"Hi, Ma." I make an attempt to smile but I know I've failed when I see the worried look on her face.

"Maurice, you look terrible. What's wrong? Did something happen at work? Did something happen to Faith?"

The mention of Faith makes me feel sick all over again. I'm too exhausted to be able to deal with my emotions right now. My legs feel like they're going to give out any second and I grab onto the doorframe for support.

Ma touches my face gently. "Maurice, baby, tell me what's wrong."

I don't know what to say. It feels like I'm too tired to even think. Surprisingly enough, Sully comes to my rescue. He has been really nice and protective toward me since I got that ulcer. I wonder if he thinks I'm going to die if he doesn't take care of me.

"He's sick, Mrs Boscorelli."

Ma looks at Sully in surprise and I realize she didn't even notice him until now. "What's wrong with him?" she asks worriedly.

Sully shrugs. "I don't know for sure, but I think it's the flu. He's thrown-up several times and I don't think he should be alone. He's rather wiped."

Ma looks a bit concerned. "That's very nice of you…."

"Officer Sullivan," Sully supplies helpfully.

"…Officer Sullivan, but where's Faith?"

"She's home sick with the flu. He probably caught it from her," Sully lies easily.

There's no way to tell that he's just making it up along the way and I'm impressed. I was always under the impression that he never lies, but maybe that's all he ever does.

Ma looks dismayed. "Poor Faith!"

Then she looks at me again and gently tugs on my arm. "Maurice, honey, let's get you in bed before you fall over."

I just nod. It feels good to be taken care of, especially when the caretaker is my Ma. There's something special about the way mothers take care of you. And another good thing with them is that you don't have to worry that they are going to confess their undying love for you all of a sudden. You've already covered that - years ago.

She looks over at Sully. "Thank-you, Officer Sullivan, for taking care of him for me and Faith."

"Yeah, thanks, Sul," I agree.

Sully just nods shortly. "You just take care now and don't forget to talk to Faith."

I don't answer. I have no intention to do as I'm told but he doesn't need to know that. He turns around and leaves. Ma leads me into her guest room and helps me get undressed, like I am a small child but I'm too exhausted to complain. I feel like I'm going to pass out if I don't lie down soon. Once my uniform is off, I lie down on the bed. Ma gently tucks me in and sits down on the edge of the bed.

I shiver slightly and she frowns. "You cold, Maurice?"

I nod. She puts her hand on my forehead and her frown deepens. "You feel a bit warm. You're probably coming down with a fever."

I tiredly close my eyes. Maybe she's right. Maybe I'm getting sick, too. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

I feel her gently stroke my cheek. "You just rest, Maurice. I'll be right back with another blanket."

I just nod in return and before I know it, she's back with the blanket.

I open my eyes. "Thanks, Ma."

She smiles. "You're welcome. You just rest now. I put a bucket by the bed if you get sick again."

I smile gratefully in return.

She runs her hand over my hair lovingly and smiles back. "Night, Maurice."

"Night," I whisper hoarsely before letting sleep overtake me.

I wake up with a strange feeling of loss inside and at first I don't even know where I am. It takes me a couple of seconds to realize that I am at my Ma's. I feel slightly panicked. Why am I here and why do I feel so lonely? Faith! Where's Faith? Has something happened to her? Is that why I feel so lonely? I quickly sit up and leap out of bed. The world immediately starts to spin. I sit down again and put my head between my knees. The feeling of fatigue in my body and the sudden tightness in my chest makes everything come back to me and I sigh deeply.

I can't believe she really loved me for all those years. I can't believe that all we had was built on a lie, and I can't understand how she could live with herself, knowing she lied to all of us every single day. I take a deep breath and slowly stand up. This time the room remains motionless and I walk out into the hallway to find Ma. I find her sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee. I briefly wonder if she still pours bourbon into it.

She looks up with a concerned expression on her face when she hears me enter. "Morning, baby; how you feeling today?"

"Better," I answer tiredly.

"You're still very pale. Did you get any sleep?"

I nod. "Yeah, I slept surprisingly well."

"And you didn't throw up?"

"No." I move over to the coffeemaker and pour myself a cup of coffee. Ma stands up and takes it away from me.

"Ma!" I protest.

"No, Maurice. No coffee on an empty stomach. That ugly ulcer of yours just healed, remember?"

I sigh. She moves to stand in front of me and puts her hand on my forehead. After a few seconds she starts smiling. "You're not running a fever either; looks like you don't have the flu after all."

"Probably just something I ate," I murmur and cringe slightly. I hate lying to my Ma.

"Yeah, that's one explanation," she answers thoughtfully and looks inquiringly at me.

I don't like that look one bit. It always means I'm in trouble – one way or another.

"What?" I ask defensively.

Ma picks up her coffee and takes a sip. "I called Faith last night, to check on her."

I stare at her. "What on earth did you do that for?"

She raises her eyebrows. "Why wouldn't I? This Officer Sullivan drops my son off on my doorstep because he's too sick to take care of himself, and because the woman who has taken care of him the last three months is too sick to help. I got worried, Maurice, and it surprises me that you're not worried as well."

I feel my heart rate quicken in my chest. Why does she look so serious? Maybe Faith is sick for real. Maybe something has happened to her. _"I needed you to be able to get through the day."_ I hear Faith's desperate voice in my head and see her tear-stained face in front of me. I feel my blood run cold. No. No, there's no way she could have done something as stupid as that, right?

"What did you do to her, Maurice?" Ma asks sternly.

"Why do you think I did something to her?" I try to sound annoyed but my voice won't cooperate. It sounds small and scared.

Ma narrows her eyes. "Because she said she wasn't ill, but she sure was upset. She couldn't talk to me without crying and the mere mention of your name made her almost hysterical. She asked me to take care of you for her because you two are splitting up. She said you didn't want to have anything to do with her anymore. So, I'm asking you again; what did you do to her, Maurice?"

The relief I felt when I heard there's nothing wrong with her, quickly turns into anger when I realize that Ma assumes this is my fault.

"It wasn't me. It was her! You have no idea what a traitor and liar she is!"

Ma looks calmly at me. "And you have never lied to her?"

I clench my teeth in anger. "You don't understand, Ma. This wasn't just any lie. She's been keeping something very important from me for twelve years!"

"I don't like it when you raise your voice at me," she says calmly.

"Sorry," I murmur regretfully.

"Sit down, Maurice. You and I really need to talk."

"Ma, there's nothing to talk…."

"Maurice." Her tone of voice and the way she looks at me tells me that it's no longer a request – it's an order, and I know better than mess with her when she looks at me that way. I sit down at the kitchen table. She sits down opposite me and lights a cigarette.

"So, she finally told you she loves you, huh?"

"You know?"

She nods.

"She told you?"

She smiles slightly. "No, Maurice, of course not."

"Then how do you know?"

Her smile widens. "I have always known. Since the first time I saw you two together. It's impossible to miss. She worships the ground you walk on."

I stare at her in disbelief. How come everyone seems to have picked it up but me?

"Well, I sure did miss it," I murmur angrily.

Ma sighs. "Yeah you did."

"So, why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I'm selfish."

Great. Her reason for lying is also selfishness. How come no one seems to care about me?

"How come it matters to you whether or not I knew?"

Ma puts out her cigarette and looks calmly at me. "What would you have done if I had told you?"

"Run like hell, of course!"

She nods knowingly. "That's what I thought and that's why I didn't tell you."

"What difference would it make to you whether I'm with her or not?"

"She loves you. Really loves you, and there's nothing a woman wouldn't to for her kids and the man she loves. You are a very hard person to get along with, Maurice, and you know that. Still you had to get one of the most dangerous jobs there is - a job where you have to depend on people who are willing to die for you. It scared the shit out of me, and I don't think I have ever felt as relieved as when I saw in her eyes that she loved you. I knew then that you were safe. I knew that her love for you would make her stick around no matter what stupid tricks you pulled or how much you messed up. I knew that she would die for you if she had to, and as long as you're safe I'm a happy woman."

"And it never once occurred to you that I might have wanted to choose for myself whether I wanted to be around a partner who loves me or not? How do you think it feels to know that the person you thought was your friend was looking at you as a potential boyfriend, huh?"

Ma rolls her eyes. "Don't be stupid, Maurice. Tell me something; over the years, can you come to think of one single time when her love for you has hurt you in anyway?"

I don't answer because there's no way for me to know that. I have no idea how Faith would have behaved if she didn't love me.

But my lack of response makes Ma look triumphantly at me. "I thought so. You better face it, Maurice. She's been unbelievably good to you over the years. There's nothing she wouldn't have done for you – even when you didn't deserve it. Have you forgotten what you told me after she'd been shot last year? She would do anything for you - anything."

"Except telling me the truth," I reply bitterly.

Ma nods. "Except for telling you the truth, and believe me, Maurice, that was much more painful for her than it was for you."

I'm about to protest but she holds up her hand. "No, listen to me. Imagine that you had loved someone secretly for twelve years. Someone you had no right to love. Someone you knew you could never have, because you didn't want to break your kids' hearts by divorcing their mother. Imagine that you had done everything for her and, one day, when you might even thought she might be within reach, you told her and she basically asked you to go to hell. How do you think that would feel, Maurice, huh? She's lonely. She doesn't have anyone else right now. He husband has left her. You know that, right?"

I don't bother to ask her how she knew. It's obvious that everyone knows everything – everyone but me. Instead I stare at her in horror. God what have I done? What have I done? Poor Faith; she never really did anything wrong. Well, not telling me she loved me was stupid and loving me is coming close to insanity – that's for sure, but Ma is right. I have never really suffered because of it but she sure as hell has. I can't imagine what she must have felt all those times I lay unconscious on the ground or tried to get her and myself killed by pulling some stupid stunt, or leaving her for Cruz…._ "I need you to be able to get through the day."_ Oh, God, poor Faith. All the good memories, all the times when she was there for me play in my head. All the good marks. How could I forget about them? I have messed up again. Messed up big time.

"Oh, God, what have I done?" I whisper and put my head in my hands in despair.

"Maurice, what did you say to her?" Ma asks worriedly.

"A lot of shit that I never should have said - some really cruel stuff," I answer quietly and lift my head to look at her.

She gazes worriedly at me. "Maurice, you better try to fix this quick, before it gets any worse. Do you hear me?"

I nod and stand up. I need to freshen up a bit before I go and see her. My stomach hurts and my chest is tight from fear. What if it's too late? What if it can't be fixed? I suddenly realize it is too late. There's no way this can be fixed, but maybe if I apologize, some of the damage my big mouth caused may be repaired.

As I reach the doorway, I hear Ma's voice calling, "And, Maurice?"

I turn to face her. "Maybe you should ask yourself how you could be so close to her all those years without realizing she loved you, and maybe you should ask yourself why you got so angry when you found out. And you definitely need to ask yourself why hearing her saying she loves you made you so upset that you got sick."

I narrow my eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She smiles. "That's for you to figure out."


	20. Chapter twenty

TITLE: Do you really want me?

AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith

E-MAIL: 

RATING: PG-13

DISCLAIMER: Don't own a thing, just borrow and play.

SPOILER: Up to and including most of season five and my story "All that glitters is not gold."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Since I forget the most important part last time I start with that one this time: Thank you Joey!! You're the best beta a girl can have and the reason to my success.

Thanks also to all the people put there making shipper video's. They are great inspiration for me. BIG thanks also to all my reviewers. You're making it all worth it. Please continue giving me feedback, by reviewing or by e-mail or pm. And now – without further delay - over to the story.

CHAPTER TWENTY

I slowly lift my head from the top of my knees and gingerly wipe away the last trace of tears from my cheeks. I still feel like crying but it's like I don't have any more tears left. I can't cry anymore. Instead I feel a big, cold emptiness inside. It's like nothing I have experienced before. It feels like it's eating its way into my soul and erasing everything that's me.

I look at my watch and am surprised to see that it's only been an hour since Fred called to tell me he was suing me for custody. He said I shouldn't expect to see the kids anytime soon – probably never – because he'd make sure the court got to know what an unfit mother I am. It wasn't even a difficult task, he said, since I had given him plenty of stuff over the years that he could use. I guess he's right and I have a feeling that the fact that I always had the best intentions isn't going to make any difference.

It saddens me that the man who once said he loved me is willing to do this to me and it's a frightening thought that I might have to live without my kids. It doesn't really surprise me, though, considering the bad turn my life seems to have taken lately. It's obvious that God, destiny, or whoever runs this show is determined not to stop until I have lost everything that means something to me.

Sighing, I stand up and slowly make my way to the bathroom. I need to find some Advil or something because my head is killing me. Crying for almost 48 hours has made me feel like I have a really bad hang-over. I honestly didn't think you could cry for that long, but every time I managed to calm down a bit, someone called and made it start all over again.

First Sully called to tell me that Bos had had a panic attack at work and that he seemed ill again. Of course Bos had refused to go to the hospital, although he was in no shape to be on his own, but Sully said I shouldn't worry because he had taken Bos to his mother's instead. The whole thing – of course – made me very upset. Just because he doesn't want to have anything to do with me doesn't mean I've stopped caring. I feel very guilty because I know that it's the stress from finding out that I love him that made him have that panic attack. If he ends up at the hospital again because of me, I don't know how I'm going to be able to live with myself. Sully was sweet about the whole thing, though. He promised he would take care of Bos for me and that I shouldn't worry about the other stuff, because Bosco will come around eventually and realize how lucky he is. I highly doubt it, but still it was a very nice thing to say. I'm kind of surprised that Bosco told Sully what the problem was in the first place but I guess they have become really good friends lately. It feels odd. It has always been just him and me I have always been the only one…but at the same time, I'm grateful that Bos has someone else to take care of him now that I can't.

Just half an hour later, Rose called to check on me because Sully had been nice enough to try to cover for us by telling her I had the flu. I told her I was OK and then she asked me what was going on. Her kindness made me break down completely and I begged her to take care of him for me since I couldn't, because we were splitting up. She asked what had happened but I couldn't answer her - I just cried. She told me not to worry and that she'd talk to him when he awakened and help me sort out whatever was wrong. I appreciate the offer – I really do - but I know it isn't going to help.

I finally find a bottle of Advil on the top shelf. I take two and down them with some water then sit down on the toilet, burying my head in my hands. What am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to be able to get through the day? How…. The sound of the phone startles me. I quickly stand up and hurry over to the phone, almost tripping over my own feet in the process. I can't help but hope that it's Fred calling to tell me he has changed his mind.

I pick it up and press the talk button. "Faith."

"Hi, Mom." Emily's voice sounds small and worried.

"Hi, Em. Are you OK?" I ask worriedly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just wanted to talk to you," she replies quickly, nervousness evident in her voice. "I mean, I know Dad called you and said we don't wanna see you and I just wanna tell you that that's not true."

I feel a big lump forming in my throat and I swallow hard. "Thanks, sweetie."

There's a short moment of silence before she hesitantly asks, "You OK?"

"I'm fine."

"You sure? You don't sound so great."

"I'm OK. I just caught some kind of bug yesterday."

"Oh…are you gonna be OK?"

I'm amazed that she seems to care so much. Especially considering that she – just a few days ago - deliberately ruined my life by telling Bosco that I love him.

"Yes, honey, I'm sure. Don't worry, OK?"

"But I don't want you to be alone if you're sick. Can't you ask Bosco to come over and take care of you?"

The hopefulness in her voice surprises me. I thought she hated the thought of me and Bos together. That was why she told him in the first place, right? But maybe she wants to know if she has succeeded or not.

"I don't think so, Em. Our relationship is a bit shaky at the moment."

Must be the understatement of the year but it should be enough to satisfy her.

"In what way?" I expect to hear satisfaction and victory in her voice but instead, there's only nervousness.

I sigh. "Let's just say that being around me is the last thing he wants right now."

"Why? Is it because of what I told him?"

There's still no satisfaction in her voice - more regret and disappointment. I'm beginning to think that the poor kid thought she was doing me a favor by telling him.

"Yeah."

"Oh, Mom! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make things worse for you, I swear! It was the other way around. I wanted to help you find some happiness. I mean, with Dad cheating on you and all, I thought it would be only fair if you could have Bosco, and you two seemed to be so close lately…. I'm really sorry, Mom, really, really sorry. I was so sure he'd changed his mind."

She sounds like she's close to tears and my heart breaks for my poor child. She had no idea what a disaster she was causing. She just wanted to be nice. She just wanted to make my life a bit easier to live.

"It's OK, Em. I know you only meant well and I appreciate that you tried to look out for me."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," I answer with as much reassurance as I can muster.

"But he can't be mad at you. He promised he'd take care of you," she replies unhappily.

"Don't worry; he'll come around eventually. He just needs some time."

"You think so?"

"I know so. It came kind of suddenly for him and he just needs some time to process the whole thing and adjust to the thought."

I try to sound as if I mean it, although I'm painfully aware of that it will be a cold day in hell before he has adjusted to that thought. But I don't want to make my daughter feel bad or make a liar out of Bos. Neither of them is to blame for my stupidity.

There's a short moment of silence before she speaks again. "So you gonna be OK then?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna be just fine; don't worry."

"OK, bye, Mom. Promise me you'll take care of yourself now."

Her voice is soft and the fondness in it almost makes me start crying all over again.

"I will. You take care, too, and give your brother a kiss from me, OK?"

"OK, bye."

"Bye, Em."

¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨

I wake up with a start because someone is pounding at my door. I sit up and try to rub the sleep from my eyes. I'm kind of surprised that I managed to fall asleep in the first place but I guess I'm exhausted.

The knock comes again, more urgent this time. I stand up and slowly drag myself to the door. I unlock it without checking the peak hole. I don't care if it's a robber or a mad man. I don't care if I'm about to get killed. Who knows, maybe that would be for the best? I nonchalantly fling the door open and find myself staring into Bosco's blue eyes. The total surprise I feel causes me to gasp for air. Seeing him on my doorstep again was the last thing I expected.

"Bos?" I say in a hoarse, almost inaudible whisper.

I have no idea what brings him here but the paleness of his face immediately worries me. He looks awful and I remember that both Sully and Rose told me he was sick.

"You OK?"

He shifts uneasily and almost looks like he's embarrassed by the question.

"Yeah, I'm fine but we need to talk. Can I come in?"

I can feel tears starting to rise in my eyes all over again, despite my earlier assumption that I didn't have any left.

"Look, Bosco. I said I was sorry and I can't take any more yelling from you. Please just leave me alone."

He looks down at his shoes for a brief moment before meeting my eyes. When he speaks again, his voice is soft and caring and the look on his face is the one I've learned to love so much over the years. The one telling me I'm important to him.

"I'm not gonna yell, Faith. I promise. Please let me in."

I suddenly feel defeated and powerless. Who am I to tell him what to do? He has every right to yell at me every day for the rest of our lives. I was the one who did wrong – not him - and since when have I ever been able to deny him anything?

He looks pleadingly at me. "Please, Faith."

I step aside to let him in. He quickly walks past me then turns around to face me. I notice that he has his hands in his pockets which means he's nervous and that surprises me. Since when does yelling at people bother him?

"Can we sit down?"

I shrug and follow him to the couch. We both sit down and he takes his hands out of his pockets, quietly studying his finger nails. For a few moments there isn't a sound to be heard in the room. I barely dare to breathe out of fear of what's going to happen next.

Finally, he looks up at me and says, "I'm sorry, Faith. I'm really, really sorry."

I'm stunned. I don't know what to say. I have no idea what this means. I expected him to start yelling at me again but instead he starts apologizing. It touches me. It touches me that he still cares enough to think I'm worth the effort. I know it doesn't mean he has forgiven me, or that he has changed his mind or anything like that but it makes the whole thing easier to bear. It's easier to lose him if I know that he doesn't hate me.

I manage to give him a faint smile to show him how grateful I am that he has decided to show me some mercy. "It's OK."

"No, Faith! It's not!" he answers fervently and looks so upset that I want to hug him. "I never should have said what I did. I acted like an ass and I'm so sorry."

The heartbreaking look on his face almost makes me reach for his hand, but fortunately, I stop myself in time.

"It's OK, Bos. I deserved it. You were right, not telling is just as bad as lying,"

He closes his eyes and the look on his face is tormented. When he opens them again, they are filled with pain and regret. "No, Faith. You didn't deserve any of it. Truth is, you've never deserved any of the shit I pulled you through" He shakes his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Faith. I really am."

My chest aches from the effort it takes to keep myself from crying and I can barely talk. I need to, though, because I can't let him torture himself like this. It's going to make him sick again and it's not like it will do me any good anyway. We can't both be saved from the consequences of this mess and since I'm the reason we ended up like this in the first place, he deserves to be the one who survives and it's my job to make sure he does.

I swallow hard and try to put my own feelings of despair away.

"Bos, don't. It -"

"No." He puts his hands up in the air as he cuts me off. "Faith, please listen to me OK?"

The pleading look on his face and the fondness in his eyes makes me nod. I have never been able to deny him anything when he looks like that. Never.

He runs his hand over his hair in that nervous gesture that is so familiar to me, and then chews on his lower lip for a few seconds before meeting my eyes.

"Thank-you, Faith, for loving me."

I stare at him in total confusion. What's this supposed to mean? Is he happy that I love him all of a sudden?

He notices my confusion and offers me a small, uncharacteristically shy smile. "Ma and Sully told me that the reason you put up with me all these years, the reason you protected, covered for and saved me was because you love me. So Thank-you, Faith. I'd never been here today if it wasn't for your love."

I can barely see him though my tears. "Bos…."

"No, you promised to hear me out. We both know how I messed up over and over again and how you always fixed it. We both know what a mess I've been mentally on more than one occasion over the years and you always managed to keep me from becoming a total nutcase. You always managed to save me." He shakes his head and smiles in awe. "I don't know how you did it but you always succeeded." He pauses for a second and swallows hard. "And if the reason you did all that is because you love me, then I really should be grateful, not accusing you for trying to get laid, right?"

I'm crying now. I can't help it. He's so sweet and suddenly; I almost wish he'd stayed angry with me, because the thought of losing someone as sweet and caring as him kills me.

"Bos…. " My voice is barely a whisper, a very shaky whisper, but that's all I mange to get out between my pathetic attempts to stop myself from sobbing uncontrollably.

He looks sadly at me and there's despair in his voice when he pleads, "Don't cry, Faith. Please don't cry. I'm not worth it."

"Ye…s, yo…u are."

He shakes his head again. "No, Faith, I'm not."

His sad, caring voice and the tenderness in his eyes only make things worse and I'm burying my face in my hands and crying hysterically. I can't take much more of this. I just can't. It was much easier when he hated me. Oh, how I wish I had asked for another partner when I realised how much I loved him all those years ago.

Suddenly, I feel his hand gently squeezing my shoulder. "Come on, Faith. Please don't cry."

His voice sounds choked and I realize that he's close to tears himself and I know it's time for me to pull myself together. I don't want him to end up at the hospital with a new ulcer because he feels guilty for not loving me and if there's anything I'm good at, it's to put on an act to save Bosco. That's what my life has been about the last twelve years or so and I owe it to him to do it one last time.

I pull away slightly from his touch and take a deep, shaky breath before wiping my eyes. "I'm sorry."

When I look up at him, the heartbreaking look of love and affection on his face almost makes me start crying all over again. "There's no need to be sorry, but I don't want you to cry over me. I'm not worth it, OK?"

"OK," I whisper and do my best to smile despite the fresh tears that are forming in my eyes.

"God, Faith. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything I put you through. All this stories about my girlfriends, Cruz…." He closes his eyes in agony. "I'm so sorry."

"It's OK. You didn't know. You didn't do it to be mean to me. You just didn't know."

He nods eagerly. "That's right. I didn't know. I would never do anything to hurt you. You know that, right?"

I nod and smile softly. "I know."

Because I do. If there's anything I'm sure of in this world, it is that Bosco would never hurt me on purpose; because he's an idiot – yeah, but never on purpose.

We sit in silence while I compose myself. Then, after several minutes, I hesitantly ask, "So where do we go from here?"

He looks down on his hands. "I don't know…I mean I hope we can still be friends…or something like that....I want to be your friend, Faith, if you let me. I understand if you don't want to…." He pauses to take a deep breath. "But we better not be partners anymore…. I think it'd be too complicated and awkward...." He looks up at me, his eyes pleading with me to understand.

I nod in agreement.

He looks down on his hands again. "I'll talk to Swersky first thing tomorrow; ask him to transfer me to another precinct or something."

I swallow hard, trying to keep more tears from falling. "No, I should be the one asking to be transferred. I was the one who screwed up this time."

He smiles sadly. "I don't agree."

"You never do," I answer and fake my best smile at him.

He makes a pathetic effort to smile back but ends up looking like he's about to cry.

"Faith…."

"No, Bosco, please let me talk to Swersky tomorrow. Maybe we can work something out. Maybe neither of us needs to get transferred. Would that be OK with you? To risk running into me every now and then?" I ask more eagerly than I want to but I'm back to need. I need him so desperately to be able to function - to be able to get through the day.

He smiles softly. "Yeah, that'd be OK."

I know this is coming close to blackmailing. I know all too well that he feels too guilty to be able to deny me anything at this point but I can't help myself. I just can't do this without him.

"So, it's settled then?"

He nods. "Yeah….Look…I should probably be going…."

I nod in agreement and stand up to show him that it's OK to leave.

He stands up as well and when he does, he winces slightly. "Bos? You OK?"

He smiles faintly and looks fondly at me. "Yeah, I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me anymore. You've done that enough over the years. I'm gonna be fine. I promise. You don't have to save me ever again. I swear, OK?"

I swallow hard. "OK."

I wish he knew that I'd willingly save him over and over again if I had to, but I guess that's Sully's job from now on.

We just stand there and look at each other for several minutes and then something seems to dawn on him.

"And you? Are you gonna be OK? I mean with Fred and everything…."

I can feel more stupid tears stinging my eyes and quickly reply. "Yeah, I'm gonna be fine."

I realize I was too eager to reassure him when I see the worried look on his face.

"Faith, I know this is a mess right now but I really want to be your friend and if you should ever need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to call, OK?"

The sincerity in his voice makes me lose it again and I can't stop the tears from running down my cheeks. I want to clung onto him and tell him that what I need is him, and only him and that he just can't leave me, but that would be both pathetic and cruel and I have tortured him enough today to last a life time. So instead, I just stand there with my eyes trained on the floor as I try to compose myself.

"Hey, look at me."

His voice is gentle but I can't bring myself to look at him.

"Please, Faith, look at me."

This time there's desperation in his voice and I know I have to look up. I quickly wipe away some tears from my cheeks before lifting my head.

He makes sure I meet his eyes before he starts to talk. "You don't need me to get through the day, you know that, right?"

It surprises me that he remembers I said that. I thought he was too mad at the time to really listen to what I had to say. I guess I was wrong.

"Right?"

The desperation in his voice tells me he needs me to reassure him that I don't need him. He wants to make sure that leaving me isn't going to cause another disaster and I know I owe him to do so. I know he's way too fragile both physical and mentally to be able to deal with the fact that I can't live without him. But I can't bring myself to say it. I just can't, because that would be a lie and I can't lie to him anymore. Lying is what caused this situation in the first place. Still I can't bear to say no. That would be way too cruel.

So instead, I just nod and reply, "Right," knowing all to well that he can read the truth in my eyes.

For a few moments we just look at each other in silent agony. I know I'm crying again because I can feel tears running down my cheeks. Suddenly, he catches me completely off guard by gently, but quickly, caressing my check, his own eyes shiny with tears, as he whispers, "I'm so sorry, Faith. I'm so sorry."

Then he quickly turns around and leaves. I just stand there in the hallway, staring after him. The shock from his actions has made me stop crying. The feeling of his hand against my cheek makes me remember another caress. A caress I thought was something I had made up in my head. The caress at the hospital, over a year ago; it was real. I know that for sure now. He really did caress my cheek then and he did it now, and I can't help but wonder what that means.


	21. Chapter twentyone

TITLE: Do you really want me?

AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith 

DISCLAIMER: Don't know any of the characters, just the story plot. :)

RATING: PG-13

SPOILERS: Up to and including season five, plus some of season six and my story "All that glitters is not gold."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Again, big thanks to all the people who gives me reviews, please continue doing that because it's for you I write. :)

Thanks to Joey for the excellent beta-reading and to Bee for helping me out with some problems. I owe you!

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

I come in early for once, hoping to catch Faith. I want to know what Swersky said. I feel cruel for leaving it to her to deal with him. I know how hard he is to fool and I know she has to come up with a hell of a story to convince him there's nothing wrong between us; that what she asks for is perfectly normal under the circumstances.

I don't see her in the hallway and the door to Lieu's office is open. Maybe they are already done. Maybe she's in the locker room. I'm just about to push the door open when an uncharacteristically whiny voice, belonging to Davis, catches my attention and makes me freeze in action.

"Come on, Sul, you can't be serious!"

"I'm sorry, Ty, but I have to – at least for a while. I promised Faith."

Faith? What did he promise Faith that Ty doesn't like?

"Why did you do that? Why can't she baby-sit Bosco herself - like she has done the last twelve years, huh?"

The word baby-sit makes me pissed. No one needs to baby-sit me. I can look after myself just fine. I'm just about to bust into the room and make that clear to both of them. Then I remember that I'm eavesdropping and remain where I am, because I have a feeling there's more interesting stuff to come that I won't want to miss.

"I know it sucks but she's a real mess herself right now. Her husband left and now he's suing her for full custody of the kids, using her work against her. Her only chance to win is to get off the streets and try to get better hours. She's gonna try for a sergeants degree later on, but for now, desk duty is her only option. That leaves Bosco without a partner and the thought of him alone out there really freaks her out."

Suing her for custody? Fred's suing her for custody? You've got to be kidding me! That man really is an idiot and someone seriously needs to kick his ass. Poor Faith; I had no idea it was this bad. Never in my wildest dreams did I think he'd be that mean to her. I never understood what she saw in him, but on the other hand, she's in love with me, so maybe she has bad judgment when it comes to men.

Davis sighs. "I get that part, but why does it have to be you? Can't he ride with Monroe - like he did when Faith was injured?"

Yeah, thanks, Davis. I really had a blast listening to her insane yapping all day! I'd pick Sully's crankiness over her yapping any day a week.

"Faith doesn't like the idea and to be honest with you, neither do I. Remember what happened last time they rode together? He's been fragile ever since and this mess with his brother hasn't helped at all."

"Yeah, but isn't he over that now? I thought Faith had fixed that."

"He's better but he's still not himself. It wouldn't take much to push him over the edge again. Faith can't handle another nervous breakdown from him right now – yet alone a bleeding ulcer. She needs to concentrate on her own life for once."

I close my eyes. This part really hurts to know. It's very disturbing to hear them talk about me like I'm some kind of mental freak but I can't really blame them. I have been acting kind of scary lately and poor Sully knows all about it. The thought that I'm a burden to Faith – that I always have been - is very depressing but I know it's true. I'm not just a burden, but also the source of all her heartache and pain, and the cause of every problem she has ever had. The thought makes me feel sick.

Davis sighs again. "OK, but it's not gonna be forever, right? I mean, she's obviously not coming back and…."

"Don't worry. I'm sure Lieu will be able to find him a new partner when he's ready."

Davis murmurs something I can't hear and I decide I've heard enough and push the door open.

"Hi, Bos," Davis greets me with a friendly smile.

He sounds sincere and the whiny tone from before is gone. He really is a good guy. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be this nice and understanding if I was in his place ─ if I was the one whose partner had to keep a nutcase from freaking out.

I nod in return and start to change into my uniform. My thoughts go back to their conversation and once again, I'm incredibly impressed by Sully's ability to lie so easily. I just wish he hadn't done it to his partner. No good ever comes from that. I know that from experience but as usual, people have to suffer and get hurt because of me. I'm really starting to think that someone like me doesn't deserve to live. Maybe I should just eat my gun, but no, that would only make things worse for Faith. I have no intention of hurting her any further and what I just overheard has made things clear to me; I can't afford to screw up again. For Faith's sake and for Davis' and Sully's, as well, I have to hold it together this time. I have to make it on my own again, without panic attacks and bleeding ulcers and that sort of crap. I need to get myself together once and for all. I know I can do it because I'm doing it for Faith and for her, I can do anything.

When I enter roll call, I spot Faith sitting in her usual seat, studying the table top. Her face is pale and she looks sad and tired. I feel a twinge of guilt. I want to blame the misery she's in on Fred, but I can't. I know all too well why she's looking this way. It's because she fell in love with her moron of a partner. It's all because of me – as usual.

I sit down a couple of seats away from her. I don't want to be too close because I'm pretty sure that will only make things worse, but I don't want her to think that I can't stand being near her. She doesn't look up, just keeps staring at the table top. It's killing me to see her so sad, especially when I know it's because of me. Lieu's going on about the usual stuff but before he sends us out on the streets, he informs the shift about the changes. I can hear Davis sigh but I don't bother to look over at him. Instead, I keep my eyes trained on Faith, but she still doesn't look up. She isn't even moving. She looks like she's lost in another world, probably a better world where I'm not such an ass but rather someone who loved her as much as she loves me.

Everybody stands up and starts leaving the room and I hear Sully bark my name.

"Bosco, come on! I don't have all day. Go and sign out the radios. I'll get the car!"

The sound of Sully's voice makes Faith look up. She smiles a tiny, but grateful, smile at him and mouths, "Thank-you."

He nods shortly in return and I almost feel jealous. I don't want her to have silent conversations with anyone but me and that's _so_ irrational. I'm such an idiot. I was the one who wanted to split up. I'm the one responsible for the way she looks ─ like she's going to break down any minute ─ and I have _no _right whatsoever to be jealous. I can't believe how selfish I am. I seriously need to get my shit together.

I sign out the radios and go outside to see if I can find Sully. He stands by the car, looking pissed. I sigh internally and start reconsidering my earlier assumption that riding with him is better than being with Monroe; at least she's not pissed all the time.

I approach him casually, holding out a radio for him to take. He angrily snatches it out of my hand and turns around.

I sigh. "Look, Sully, I know you'd rather ride with Davis and you don't have to take care of me. I'll be fine on my own."

He turns around with a sarcastic smile. "Yeah, sure you will. You really proved that when I last saw you."

OK, that one hurt, but he's right – again. "It won't happen again. I promise and I don't need a baby-sitter."

Sully's expression goes from pissed to furious within seconds and he takes a step closer to me, keeping his voice low, obviously not wanting every cop on the street to hear why he's going to read me the riot act.

"Don't think for a second that I'm doing this for you. I'm doing it for Faith. Only because I promised her and only because I know she'd break down completely if something happened to you right now. How anyone in their right mind would love you – especially someone as smart as Faith – is beyond me. But if there's something I can do to make her life even a little bit easier right now, I will, even if that means dragging your sorry ass around the streets all day. So now get your ass in the car and you better behave. I'm not going to be happy if I have to explain to Lieu why you screwed up, or tell Faith you got hurt pulling some stupid stunt. After all the shit you put her through; you owe it to her to behave. Do you hear?"

I nod and hang my head. He's right. I am an ass and I owe it to Faith to behave, so I just enter the car in silence, vowing not to cause her anymore pain.

Sully doesn't speak more than a dozen words to me the first half of our shift - but I don't mind. I don't want to talk to him when he's mad anyway.

Suddenly – after, like, four hours – he turns his head to the side to glance at me and asks, "Where do you wanna eat?"

I shrug. "Don't know. Doesn't matter. I'm not hungry anyway."

He doesn't answer, just continues to drive until we reach a Chinese restaurant, then he parks the car, turns off the engine and shifts in his seat to look at me.

"You need to eat, Bosco. You're gonna get sick again if you don't."

He doesn't sound angry anymore. Instead, his voice is soft and has that caring touch that I've grown used to lately and I have a feeling it's some kind of peace offering.

I nod. I don't want to fight with him. He's a good guy. He's been very supportive these past few months, not to mention he's looking out for Faith. "I know; I will. I like Chinese."

He nods. "That's good, now come on."

We get out of the car to get our meal. I'm happy he decided to give me a break and I'm glad he reminded me that I have to take care of myself – for Faith's sake. I'm not going to give her anymore grief than I already have. I'm not.

It's been two months now, since I found out that Faith loves me. Two months and nothing has really changed. She's still on desk duty and I'm still riding with Sully. I'm doing pretty well. I haven't had a panic attack since the day Sully took me to my Ma's and I'm working hard on avoiding a new ulcer. I'm eating three times a day – even when I don't feel like it – and I'm trying to get enough sleep, trying not to worry about things. It works fine for the most part. It works fine as long as I don't look at Faith, but I have to look at her at least once a day.

The "I need you to be able to get through the day" statement won't leave me alone. I tried to tell her that it isn't true. I tried to make her reassure me that she knows that, too, but she couldn't. I saw it in her eyes that night. There was nothing more she wanted than to tell me I was right, that she doesn't need me to be able to get through the day, but she couldn't. She really thinks it's true. She really thinks she needs me to be able to go on and that's a very scary thought. It's so scary that I can't afford to ignore it. So, I make sure she gets to see me at least once a day. I've made a habit of stopping by her desk once a day to ask for some forms or something else I need, and if I don't have an errand, I make one up.

I always ask how she's doing and she always says she's fine, while giving me that tiny, tired smile that I've always hated. It makes her look defeated and that's probably how she feels, too. She's always pale and looks like she isn't getting enough sleep – which she probably doesn't. She's losing weight, too, and that part really worries me. She looks thinner every day and I'm starting to fear she's going to waste away completely. She looks almost transparent and I wish there was something I could do to help, but I know that I'm probably just making it worse for her every time I show up. But I can't take the chance of not showing up. I can't take the risk that her statement is true and that my absence will make her do something stupid.

I have never seen her look so vulnerable before and it causes this insane urge to touch her, but I don't. That would just be cruel. She might very well read something into it that isn't really there, just because she wants it so badly. Still, I want to touch her, to stroke her cheek or hold her hand – or even hug her – until she stops hurting and starts to look like Faith again. The strong independent Faith that once was my partner. I know that won't happen. I have destroyed her forever and I hate myself for it.

Today she looks even worse than usual – if that's even possible. Something is really off with her. Her face is ghostly white and her eyes are red-rimmed with big black circles around them. When I ask how she's doing, she doesn't even manage to give me her usual smile. She hands me the paper I asked for and I notice that her hands are shaking. I feel my chest tighten with fear. What's wrong with her? Why is she shaking like this? It's not that I haven't seen her hands shaking before, because I have, every time she'd checked me out when I was injured. Fear does that to her, but what on earth could have made her feel that kind of fear today? I know for sure it isn't me that's causing it, because I'm standing here in front of her, safe and sound. There has to be something else. I'm really, really worried now and I can't stop myself from touching her – despite my efforts not to. I reach out and cover her shaking hands with mine.

"Faith, what's wrong?"

Her eyes are immediately overflowed with tears and she blinks rapidly in an attempt to hide them from me.

"Faith?"

She tries to take her hands away, but I don't let go. I'm even more worried now. Whatever it is that's wrong has to be something really awful to make her this upset. The only thing I can think of that would make her this upset – except for me being hurt – is that there's something wrong with her kids. The kids! Oh my God, if something has happened to them, she's never going to recover. Maybe Fred has kidnapped them or something. If he has laid a hand on them, I'm going to kill him, I swear.

"Please, Faith. Tell me what's wrong."

She swallows hard. "Not now, Bos. Not here." Her voice is just a faint whisper and her eyes are shiny with tears.

"Then let's go somewhere else," I say gently but firmly, trying to make her trust me, like she used to. "How about roll call?"

She hesitates for a moment but then she nods her head and steps around the desk. She's just a few steps away from me when her face becomes white as a sheet. Her eyes roll back in her head and she passes out.

"Faith!" I leap forward and manage to catch her just before she hits the floor.

"Shit!" I kneel down on the floor, keeping her in my embrace while shaking her slightly. "Come on, Faith! Come on, don't do this to me! Faith, come on, wake up!"

Flashbacks from that night in Nobel's hotel room wash over me. I feel like they are choking me and my heart starts to race but I try to push it all away. I can't have a panic attack. Right now I need to focus on Faith. I press my fingers to the side of her neck and relief fills me when I'm feeling her steady heartbeat under my fingers. I take a closer look at her and realize she's breathing on her own, too. It seems too fast and shallow, but at least she's holding her own

It's just a couple of hours into the shift and the hall is crowded with cops and civilians and soon enough, there's a small crowd of people gathered around us.

"What the hell are you looking at?" I yell angrily and hold her a bit tighter to me, feeling an irrational wish to protect her from these staring morons. "Call EMS!"

One of the other desk officers gets his sanity back and I see him picking up the phone. Satisfied that someone is getting her help, I turn my attention back to Faith.

I carefully run my hand over her hair and say softly, "Faith, wake up. Come on; open your eyes for me."

Suddenly, I hear Swersky's voice bark. "What's going on here? What are you all looking at? Move away! Don't you have work to do?"

The crowd moves away as he approaches and when I look up, he's standing above us with an expression of anger on his face. It immediately changes to concern when he spots Faith in my arms.

"Bosco, what's going on here? What's wrong with Faith? "

"I don't know, Boss. We're just talking and all of a sudd-"

"What did you say to her?" The anger is back on his face and his voice is cold as ice.

"Nothing! I swear! She was upset about something already. She wanted to tell me in private but when she started to walk she just passed out!"

I know I sound like I'm about to cry, but I am. Holding Faith unconscious in my arms is bad enough and I can't stand the thought that he thinks it's because of something I said – that it's my fault. Well, it probably is – at least partly – but not because of something I said but more likely because of what I didn't say….

His features soften a bit and then he asks, "Did someone call EMS?"

The officer behind the desk nods. "Yes, Sir!"

I hear Swersky continue to talk to someone but I'm not paying attention anymore, because in my arms, Faith squirms a bit and moans. I stroke her hair while carefully shaking her. "Faith?" I look expectantly at her but she's completely out of it again.

I hear the sound of running footsteps and look up to see Carlos and this new chick, Lev- something, running toward me.

Carlos kneels down beside me and asks, "What happened?"

"I don't really know. She just passed out one me."

He nods. "Just let me check on her."

I stare at him in confusion. Of course he can check on her. What the hell is he waiting for?

As if she could feel my confusion, the girl puts her hand on my shoulder and says gently, "You need to let go of her so we can check her out, OK?"

I realize that I'm still holding her tightly in my embrace and reluctantly let go of her.

Carlos starts to take her vitals and says compassionately, "Don't worry, Bosco. We'll take good care of her."

I know they will but it still feels like I'm letting her down. I feel like I should protect her, like she'd be safer in my arms. God, I really am a mess.

Sully shows up from out of nowhere and pulls me further way form her. "Come on, Bosco. Give them room to work."

The conversation is almost identically to the one we had in Noble's hotel room and once again, the memories from that day threaten to choke me.

Sully notices and immediately comes to my rescue. "She will be OK, Bosco. Just remember to breathe."

We watch in silence as they continue to work on her and I wince when the girl puts a needle in her arm to start an IV. I hate needles and I know how much it hurts when they put one in.

Carols looks up at me. "She's very dehydrated. You know if she's been sick lately?"

I shake my head, discouraged. I have no idea. Faith would never have told me if she was, but the mere thought of her being ill – maybe even seriously ill – for days without letting me help her, makes my chest tighten with fear again. What if the cancer is back? What if she's dying?

"Breathe, Bosco," Sully whispers in my ear.

"Ok, let's roll," Carlos says and I realize they have put Faith on a stretcher and are about to wheel her out.

"Wait! Can I come?" I ask pleadingly.

I know Carlos is a good paramedic but I can't get rid of the feeling that I need to protect her and I can't let her ride alone in that bus. I just can't.

Carlos shrugs. "Sure."

I look over at Swersky for permission.

He waves me away. "Just go, but keep me posted."

I nod and hurry after them.


	22. Chapter twentytwo

TITLE: Do you really want me?

AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of this. Never have and never will.

RATING: PG-13

SPOILERS: Up to and including season five and various parts of season six. Plus my story "All that glitters is not gold."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: OK, so here I am –finally! I'm incredibly sorry for the long wait but this time I have to "blame" someone else. You see, this has bees done for a while now but it turned out that my poor beta has a real life, too! Who would have known? ;) Thanks, Joey for taking your time to do this. I'm very grateful. : )

Big thanks to all of you who's reviewing this! You make it all worth the effort:D Please continue to let me know what you think by reviewing or by e-mail.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

I've been sitting in the waiting room for a good thirty minutes before I realize someone has to tell her kids she's in the hospital. Shit! Emily even lives with her nowadays. I know that for sure because Faith told me so last week. If Faith isn't at home in a couple of hours, Emily is going to get worried and who is going to take care of her if Faith can't go home? I swallow hard and stand up. I need to talk to Swersky. I walk over to the nurse's desk and ask if I can borrow the phone.

The nurse hands me the phone with a smile. "Sure, Officer, here you go."

I dial the number to the precinct and hear Swersky pick up. "Hi, Boss. It's Boscorelli."

"Bosco? How's Faith?"

"I don't know. They haven't come out to talk to me yet, but I just wanted to make sure you'd called her next of kin. I mean, her kids need to know she's sick."

"I haven't called anyone."

I stare at the phone in disbelief. Is he out of his mind? He has always been good at making sure injured officers' relatives get notified as soon as possible. Why doesn't he care now, all of a sudden?

"Why not?"

"Because you're her only next of kin – and you already know."

"Me?"

"Yeah, you."

"But what about the kids? Who's gonna tell them?"

"My guess is that she expects you to do it."

I suck in a breath and run my hand over my hair. "OK, I guess I gotta call them then…."

"Yeah, and keep me updated."

"OK, bye."

"Bye."

I hang up the phone and stare out into space. I'm her only next of kin? Poor Faith. I had no idea it was this bad. I had no idea she was this lonely. The thought almost makes me cry. Faith practically erased herself in an attempt to please two of the biggest jag-offs on earth – me and Fred – and that cost her everything. It's a bit comforting, though, that she trusts me enough to want me to be the one to tell her kids if something happens to her. I'm actually amazed she still has that kind of faith in me.

I decide to wait to call until I know what's wrong with her and return to the waiting room and sit down, trying to keep my impatience at bay. Sully and the doctor arrive at the same time and I quickly get on my feet.

The doctor approaches me. "Officer Boscorelli?"

I nod. "Yeah, how is she? Is she OK?"

He looks gravely at me. "It depends on what you mean by OK. She's awake now and that's a good thing but we're very worried about her condition, especially her mental condition. She's very dehydrated and malnourished as well and it's probably the lack of food and liquids that caused her to pass out. There's no way for me to know why she hasn't been eating and drinking properly lately but I'm leaning toward depression."

"Your leaning toward…what kind of bullshit is that? Why don't you just ask her?"

"I would if I could, but all she has done since she woke up is cry. Do you have any idea what's going on in her life right now that could have made her depressed?"

That's not really a hard one, the answer is: Bosco! Me, that's what has been going on lately that could have made her depressed. That's what has been going on the past twelve years….

"_It's always you!"_ Fred was right and if it isn't me, it's him. Poor Faith; she should have married Sully.

"Um…yeah well, she's divorcing her husband and he's suing her for custody and her love life is kind of messy…." Sully snorts behind me and I consider taking out my gun and shooting him but that will have to wait until later; right now I need to focus. "…and I think something else happened today, too, because she was very upset just before she passed out."

The doctor nods his understanding. "I've called the psychiatric unit and asked them to send down a psychiatrist to talk to her. Hopefully they'll be able to find her a bed because she needs to be admitted."

I step closer and stare at him in anger and disbelief. "Are you insane? Are you gonna ship her off to the loony bin!"

I know my behaviour is threatening because Sully's hand appears on my shoulder and he tries to pull me away, while saying my name.

The doctor doesn't look scared, though. Instead, he gives me a compassionate smile. "Officer Boscorelli, I know it's hard to accept when these kinds of illnesses happen to someone close to you, but Officer Yokas' condition is very serious. I fear she needs suicide watch."

"Suicide watch? Are you deaf or something? I told you she passed out; she didn't cut her wrists open! The lack of blood didn't give you a hint either, did it? Why the hell would she kill herself, huh? She's not like that – not at all! How would you know anyway? You don't even know her!"

I'm in the guys face now, my firsts curled into balls at my side. I want to punch him so badly for saying these things about Faith but Sully keeps me in line by tugging continuously on my jacket, calling my name.

The doctor is either very brave or an idiot because he's still not looking even the slightest bit afraid. "I know that and you're right; I don't know her like you do. But even if she hasn't tried to commit suicide any of the regular ways; stopping eating, drinking and sleeping isn't far from it. It'll kill you eventually, too, and you said she's having a rough time right now so…. I'm sorry, I know it's hard to accept but I still think Officer Yokas needs help from the psychiatric unit."

"_I needed you to be able to get through the day."_

All the fight is leaving me when the memories of those words finally make me understand. I have made her so unhappy that she'd rather be dead. I close my eyes in agony. Oh, Faith, I thought I told you I wasn't worth crying over, and then you should have known I'm not worth killing yourself over either. Oh, God, what have I done? My poor Faith. A sudden, sharp, pain in my stomach makes me recall another line.

"_Don't do that again." _

The cancer! Maybe it's the cancer! I know that's not much better. It's probably even worse because that makes death a more likely possibility, but right now it feels like anything would be easier to deal with than the fact that she wants to kill herself because of me.

"She had breast cancer three years ago. Maybe it's back. Maybe she's too sick to eat and that would explain why she's crying, too. She's afraid of dying. That could be it, right?" I look eagerly at the doctor.

He doesn't look impressed. "Maybe…but it should have shown up in her blood work…. You could try to ask her if you can get her to talk, but I still want the psychiatrists to look at her."

I nod in agreement. There's nothing else to do right now but if he thinks for one minute that I'm going to stand and watch as some shrink drags her off to the mad house, then he's dead wrong. The only place she's going is home. I'm going to make sure of that, but all that is for later, right now I need to play nice so he'll let me see her.

"Can I see her now?"

"Sure, no problem. She's in exam three."

I start walking toward the room but before I have a chance to go in there, Proctor calls my name. I turn around to face her.

"Just give us a couple of minutes, will you? We need to change her IV and draw some more blood. I promise you can see her as soon as we're done."

I nod. I have no intention of messing with her. She's a really nice person and she knows how important Faith is to me. She proved that the night Faith got shot.

I run my hand over my hair and look over at Sully. "I'm gonna call Emily, OK?"

"OK, I'll wait here."

I go outside and hit speed-dial three on my cell phone. Emily picks up on the third ring and the background sounds tell me she's either still in school or with some friends.

"Hi, Emmy, it's Bosco."

"What do you want?" she answers coldly.

Shit! I forgot that she hates me nowadays. This is going to be even worse than I thought.

"Look, Emmy, I'm at the hospital with your Mom."

"Mom? Why?"

"She passed out at work this afternoon. The doctor says she hasn't been eating and drinking properly. He thinks she's depressed."

"This is entirely your fault! You promised to take care of her when Dad left but you didn't. You have just made her even more unhappy. Why can't you just love her like she loves you? Why? Why did you have to make her so unhappy that she ends up in the hospital?"

She's close to tears and her despair makes me feel sick. Another person whose life I have destroyed.

"Emily, please calm down. She's going to be OK."

"How? Are you planning on starting to love her?"

"It isn't that easy, Emily."

I hear her take a deep breath. "You're right I'm sorry. It's just that it's so hard to see her like this."

"I know, Emmy. I know, but I'll try to make this OK. She's my friend and I want to be there for her like she's been there for me. I'll take care of her."

"Bosco, she doesn't want you to take care of her. She wants you to love her."

I close my eyes. This is just plain awful. Over the years, Faith has only asked me for one thing. Why did she have to choose something that's impossible for me to do?

"Look, Emily, I think you better stay with your Dad tonight because your mother isn't coming home."

"NO! I can't go there. He's gonna use that against her. He's gonna try to make me stay with him, too! Can't I stay with you? Please?"

"You can't. I'm gonna stay here with your Mom."

"Then I'll come there, too."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Please, Bosco, please…."

She sounds like a little child and I can't resist. How could I? I have never been able to deny that kid anything. Faith even used to tease me about it.

"OK, I send Sully to pick you up at home in twenty minutes. Is that OK?"

"Yeah, that's great. Thanks, Bosco."

"You're welcome. See you later."

"Bye, Bosco."

"Bye, Emmy."

I sigh and hang up the phone. This keeps getting worse. How the hell am I going to fix this? I go back to the waiting room and sit down again, putting my head in my hands. I feel like I could throw up any minute.

Sully places his hand on my back and asks with concern in his voice, "Bosco?"

"This is entirely my fault, Sully," I whisper in agony.

"Bosco, don't. You don't help her by blaming yourself. You're just gonna end up with a new ulcer and make things even worse for both of you."

I lift my head and look at him. "It is my fault. Didn't you hear the doctor? She doesn't want to live anymore because of me."

"I didn't hear him mention your name," Sully murmurs half-heartedly.

I glare at him.

He sighs loudly. "OK, so maybe it is you. At least you're right there on the top of the list - next to Fred."

I desperately rub my palms on the sides of my head. "What the hell am I gonna do?"

Sully eyes me carefully. "Why don't you tell her what she's so desperate to hear?"

I narrow my eyes. "What the hell do you mean? You can't seriously think I should tell her I love her?"

"Why not?"

I give him a "Hello?" look. The poor guy must finally have turned senile or something.

"Because it isn't true?"

"Bosco…."

"No, Sully, I really want to help her. She has always been there for me and everything but I can't lie to her. Not about something as important as this. It wouldn't be fair. No, Sully, I just can't do it."

Sully looks inquiringly at me and says softly, "I'm not so sure that would be a lie."

"What the hell do you mean?"

"Do you remember when you told me she loved you and I told you I'd already figured that out long ago, because of the way she always looks at you?"

"Yeah, so?"

Sully exhales slowly. "Bosco, she isn't the only one I've been watching…. I've seen you ready to kill perps who'd badmouthed her. I have seen her pull you off the edge by her mere presence over and over again, something I never have been able to do, no matter how much I wanted to. I was there with you when Cruz shot her. I saw what it did to you – what it still does to you. I saw you beat yourself up for what happened to her to the point you'd almost died from a bleeding ulcer. I was sitting on the street, holding your hand, thinking you'd never make it and instead of having to reassure you that _you_'d be OK, I had to reassure you _she_ was OK. I have seen how you look at her every time it's time to go home – like you were afraid it was the last time you'd ever see her. I saw you today, holding her so close to you, the paramedics couldn't even get in to look at her. I have seen you get all out of your way this last month to make sure she's doing OK. You didn't have to do that. It isn't even your style. I think you love her, too"

Every word he utters makes it harder for me to breathe. He can't be right, because if he is, I have screwed up so badly I don't even know how to live with myself. He can't be right because I can't stand the thought of how much time I've wasted if he's is, all the pain Faith had to get through, just because I was too thick-headed to see the truth. No, he can't be right. He can't.

"She's my partner," I whisper weakly, desperately trying to control my breathing.

"Yeah, she is but I still think you love her."

"No…o. You're wr…o…ng!"

"If I am, then why are you so upset that you can't breathe?"

He squats down in front of me now, his hands on my shoulders. I look desperately at him. "Be…e…cau…se if yo…u…u are I've sc…re…wed up so…o bad." I can hardly get the words out because there's simply not enough air in my lungs.

"Bosco, you need to breathe, OK? Just take deep breaths."

As always when I can't breathe, he uses that special voice that makes me feel safe and I realize that he's almost as good as Faith at this now.

At the sound of Sully's voice constantly encouraging me to breathe, I slowly calm down but instead I feel nauseous as hell. I'm not going to throw up, though. I'm not. I slowly wipe the cold sweat from my forehead and look up at Sully again.

He studies my face carefully. "You OK now?"

I nod.

Sully stands up and sits down beside me. "Just tell her, Bosco. It will make life so much easier for both of you."

I shake my head. "No, I don't even know for sure if it's true and even if it is, what makes you think she still wants me?"

"She's here because she can't live without you," he states simply.

I moan. This is just completely messed up. "But I'm not good enough for her. You said so yourself. No one in their right mind would love me - especially not someone as smart as Faith."

Sully smiles. "No one is perfect."

I glare at him. "You think this is some big joke, don't you."

"No, Bosco, I don't. This is very serious. Faith is so sad and lonely that she gets sick and you're constantly on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and if you two don't pull yourselves together soon, I'm gonna have an ulcer, too. I'm way too old for this."

I put my head in my hands again and try to keep myself from throwing up. What am I gonna do? This is too much for me to handle. I'm so confused that I don't even know what I feel anymore. What if I do love her? I don't even want to think about what that means and I definitely don't want to think about how much sorrow and pain I could have spared both of us, if I had been just a bit smarter.

"You can see her now." Proctor's voice jerks me out of my thoughts and I quickly look up at her.

"You OK, Bosco?" she asked concerned.

I guess I look like shit. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

I stand up carefully, just to make sure the world doesn't decide to start moving before I do. As I start walking toward her room again, I hear Sully call after me.

"At least think about it, Bosco, OK?"

I just wave in his direction but it's not a dismissing gesture and I know he knows that.


	23. Chapter twentythree

TITLE: Do you really want me?

AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith

RATING: PG-13

DISCLAIMER: Don't own any of these characters but since NBC doesn't want them anymore—who knows what's going to happen. ; )

SPOILERS: Up to and including pieces of season six and my story "All that glitters is not gold."

AUTHOR' S NOTE: What can I say? I know it's been forever but look at the bright side. My beta is done with school soon and then you hopefully don't have to wait this long anymore. : D

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

I stop in the doorway to look at her. She looks so fragile, lying there all alone with her back to me. There's only a thin sheet covering her and I can see that she's shaking. I want to believe that she's cold but I know all too well that she's crying -- crying over me. I swallow hard and walk up to the bed.

I hesitate for a few seconds before gently putting my hand on her shoulder. Maybe touching her isn't the smartest thing to do under the circumstances but if she's anything like me, she really needs to be held right now.

"Faith?"

She doesn't answer but the shaking increases and I know that the sound of my voice has made her cry harder. I'm such a bastard.

"Faith, come on, look at me."

She still doesn't answer or move and I step around the bed to get to look at her. The way she looks makes it hard to breathe. Her face is pale and stained with tears and her eyes red-rimmed and swollen from all the crying. I swallow hard several times to get rid of the lump in my throat. I can't cry now. I need to be strong for Faith.

I put my hand on her cheek; well aware that, by doing so, I am crossing a line that I probably shouldn't cross -- at least not right now. But I don't care anymore. Everything has gone straight to hell lately and I highly doubt it can get any worse.

"Faith, what's wrong?"

Still no answer, but her crying increases even more and her whole body shakes with violent sobs. I look around and find a chair in the corner of the room. I move it to the bed and sit down beside her. Her hands are hidden under the sheet. I put one of my own hands there as well and feel around until I find one of hers, gripping it tightly. I use my other hand to gently stroke her hair and the side of her face.

"Faith, look at me, please."

She opens her eyes and the pain and despair in them makes it hard to breathe. It feels like her anguish is going to make me have another panic attack.

"Faith, what's wrong? Please tell me what's wrong. I can't help you if you don't talk to me. Is it the cancer?"

Saying the world _cancer_ out loud makes my stomach hurt and I know that if the answer to my question is "yes," I'm going to throw up.

She slowly shakes her head and takes her hand away to wipe at her tears.

I catch it again and interweave my fingers with hers. The look of surprise on her face tells me this probably is another thing I shouldn't do, but I don't care anymore. I want her to feel safe and loved. I want her to stop crying.

Squeezing her hand gently, I ask, "Then what?"

"Charlie, I lost Charlie."

I looked worriedly at her. What the hell does she mean by lost? Is he dead?

"What do you mean by 'lost,' Faith?"

"Fred got full custody."

Oh, God, poor Faith. No wonder she's upset. That cheating bastard got full custody? The judge who decided that must be smoking crack or something.

"I'm so sorry, Faith," I say and gently wipe at her tears. "I'm really sorry. Was that what you were about to tell me when you passed out?"

She nods and gives out a soft whimper, unable to control her crying anymore. I move so I'm sitting on the edge of the bed instead of the chair, and carefully put my arms around her, pulling her up into my embrace. She doesn't resist and I don't care anymore if this is right or wrong. I just want her to stop hurting before I lose my mind. I can't stand to see her hurting like this. I love her too much. Maybe Sully is right after all. Maybe I love her the way she wants me to -- the way she loves me.

"Shhh, Faith, it's OK. I'll fix this. Don't worry. We'll fix this together. We'll get him back. I promise."

I hold her tight and caress her hair, just as she did with me every time she was around when I had a panic attack. She doesn't try to pull away. Instead, she clings onto me for dear life and I hold her tightly, trying to make her pain go away. Eventually her sobs even out and she pulls away.

"Faith?"

She doesn't answer. Instead, she quickly lies down again and turns her back at me.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice is almost inaudible and I know she thinks she has made a fool out of herself.

"Faith, look at me."

She doesn't respond and, once again, I move around the bed to get to look at her.

"Faith, look at me."

She keeps her gaze firmly on the sheet as she replies, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall apart on you."

"Faith, it's OK"

She doesn't answer.

"I need to ask you something, though, and I need you to look me in the eyes when you answer, OK?"

She slowly lifts her gaze to meet mine. "The doctor out there says you collapsed because you're so depressed that you stopped eating and drinking. He says you need suicide watch because you might very well try to kill yourself. Is that true, Faith?"

She doesn't answer but she doesn't need to. The answer is right there in her eyes. She's desperate enough to kill herself. She doesn't want me to see it but she can't hide it. I know her too well.

I feel my eyes tear up. Is there ever going to be one thing in this world that I don't mess up beyond repair? I reach out and put my hand on hers, squeezing it lightly. "Faith, I'm so sorry."

She tries to pull her hand back but I don't let her. "We've been over this, Faith. I told you I wasn't worth crying over and I'm sure as hell not worth killing yourself over. Do you hear me? Please, Faith, I don't want to have that kind of power over you."

She's quiet for the longest time, and when she answers, her voice is uncharacteristically weak and quiet. "It's not just you, Bos. It's everything. It's just too much. I can't do this alone anymore. I just can't. I'm sorry."

Hearing her saying those words finally makes me realize that Sully is right -- right about it all. I am an idiot. I am a self-absorbed jerk and I do love her the way she loves me. I'm in love with her and it took me thirteen years to realize that. That has to be some kind of record in stupidity but I can't dwell on that now. Right now, Faith needs me more than ever and this is my chance to do something right for once.

I move to sit down on the edge of the bed, still holding her hand, and start to stroke her hair again. "You're not alone, Faith. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere."

She smiles weakly. "Yes, you are, Bos. I don't want you to be here because you feel guilty. You never promised me anything. I could have chosen to get another partner but I didn't. It was my choice and it was a bad one, but I don't want you to feel guilty about it. You didn't do anything wrong. Just go home, Bos. I'll be fine."

"You want me to go home so you can kill yourself?"

She looks down at the sheet. "At least that would give you one less thing to worry about -- one person less to take care of. You could finally go on with you life"

"Yeah, Faith, that would really be great. Do you really think I would be able to live with the fact that my best friend killed herself because of me, huh? How the hell am I gonna explain that to Emmy and Charlie. How, Faith? Why don't you tell me?"

Her eyes tear up again. I know I yelled at her and I'm internally cursing myself for doing so. I need to learn how to control my temper. Anger isn't going to get me anywhere. I need to make her understand that I'm not going to leave. I have to make her understand that I really, truly love her, too.

I kneel down beside the bed so I can look directly into her eyes. "Faith, listen to me. I'm sorry I yelled at you. It's just that I love you so much and you're scaring me."

She reaches up, puts her hand on my cheek and says sadly, "No, Bos, you don't love me. Not that way."

She's crying again and it makes my chest tighten to the point where I fear I'll have another panic attack. Of course she notices it and when she continues her voice is soft and soothing.

"It's OK, Bos. You don't have to. I'll be OK."

I take a deep breath, willing myself to calm down because, right now, I need to be strong for her, not freaking out like a damn girl. Her hand is still on my cheek and I cover it with my own.

"You gotta believe me, Faith. I love you. I really do. You're everything to me. I need you as bad as you need me."

She gives me another sad smile as she wipes at her tears. "We really are two peas in a pod, huh?"

I smile back and run my hand over her hair. "I do love you, Faith. I do."

She gently strokes my hair with her free hand. "I know you do, Bos. I know you do -- in your own twisted way."

I want to protest but I realize it will have to do for now. She isn't ready to believe me yet and I can't really blame her. I guess I was pretty convincing when I told her I didn't love her but as long as she doesn't throw me out; I'm satisfied. I'll make her understand eventually. I know I will. I can be very convincing when I need to.

I gently kiss her forehead before sitting down on the edge of the bed again. I'm still holding her hand and I link my fingers with hers again. "Go to sleep, Faith. You need it."

Something that looks like panic appears in her eyes and they tear up all over again. "Please, Bos, don't leave."

I give her a small smile, letting my hand playing with her hair again. It's unbelievable soft. "I told you I wasn't going any where. I'll stay for as long as you need me and that means as long as _I_ think you need me. You have nothing to say in the matter. Now, go to sleep. No more crying, OK?"

She takes a shaky breath and closes her eyes. "OK."

I smile softly, although she can't see me. She's so beautiful. I can't believe I never saw it before.

I continue to caress her hair, watching her features soften as she relaxes more and more but suddenly her eyes pop open and she looks at me, wide-eyed in fear.

"Emily! Bosco, I need to call Emily! Oh, God, who's gonna take care of her?"

"Faith. Hey, Faith, look at me. I called her and told her. I told her to go to Fred's for now, but she refused. She said it would only make things worse for you, so I sent Sully to get her. She's on her way here."

She stares at me in horror and starts crying again. "No, Bos. She can't see me like this. She can't. It'll only scare her and this isn't a place for kids. Please, Bos, she can't come here."

This is killing me. I have never seen her like this before, so lost and confused, almost hysterical. I'm starting to see what the doctor saw. She really needs a shrink and I'll get her one. I'll get her the best but I'm going to make sure she stays as far away from the loony bin as possible.

I pull her into my embrace again in an attempt to make her calm down. "Sh, Faith, it's OK. Emmy's a big girl. She can handle this and I'll take care of her for you, OK?"

She pulls away so she can look at me. "You will?"

I nod reassuringly. "Yes, Faith, I will. I promise. Now please calm down and try to get some sleep. We'll sort everything out tomorrow, I promise. But right now you need to get some rest, OK?"

She nods obediently and I can see the exhaustion in her eyes. "OK."

I carefully lay her back on the bed and take her hand again. This time she's the one who laces her fingers with mine and I can't help but smile.

I gently brush my fingers against her cheek. "Go to sleep, Faith."

Just a couple of minutes later, she's asleep and I breathe a sigh in relief, because if I had had to see her desperation for five more minutes, I'd have gone insane for sure.

I stand up to stretch out a bit and when I turn toward the door, I spot Sully there. I put my finger to my mouth and point at Faith. He nods and motions with his head for me to come into the hall.

"I'll leave her with you now," he says calmly and points to Emily, who's sitting in one of the chairs, looking lonely. "I'm gonna head home if that's OK with you."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks, Sul – for everything."

He just nods in response and leaves.

Emily vacates her chair and walks up to me. "How is she?"

I sigh and nervously run my hand over my hair. "Not so good, Emmy. She's very depressed, but don't worry. I'll fix that."

She looks doubtfully at me. "Really? And exactly how are you gonna do that?"

"I'm gonna give her what she wants."

"But she only wants you, Bosco. You're all she lives for."

She sounds hurt and I can't really blame her. She wants to be the most important person to her mom, and she really should be. And I actually think she is, but with me constantly getting Faith in trouble and expecting her to clean up my mess, I have made it impossible for Faith to show her feelings properly.

"Well, I'm planning on staying with her now, so…."

Emily narrows her eyes. "Are you telling me you're gonna start loving her all of a sudden?"

I look down on my shoes. This is awkward as hell but I can't really complain. I made my own bed, now I have to sleep in it. "I think I have always loved her. I was just too stupid to realize it."

She is quiet for so long that I have to look up. She stares at me and I try to read her face, but it's impossible.

Finally she says, "You really are an idiot, you know that, right?"

I nod.

"You hurt my mom so bad, I wanna kick your ass. I'm gonna forgive you, though, but only because you're gonna make her very happy."

"Fair enough."

We look at each other in silence for a few moments and then she asks, "So, is she gonna be OK?"

I shift uncomfortably. "That jag off doctor wants to send her to the psychiatric unit."

Emily looks horrified.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to let him do that, but she really needs to see someone. She's…." I stop because I can't find a word to describe Faith's mental state without ending up sounding like an ass.

"…a total wreck," Emily supplies quietly.

I nod again. "Something like that, yeah."

There's another silence before she asks, "Can I see her?"

"Sure, but she just fell asleep so we have to be quiet."

It's her turn to nod. "Sure."

Faith's still sound asleep when we enter the room and I'm grateful for it. She really needs to rest.

Emily walks up to the bed and sits down on the edge, taking Faith's hand. "Hi, Mom," she whispers softly.

Faith doesn't move. I sit down on the chair and put my hand on her cheek. Emily looks at me and smiles. For the first time in months, I actually feel peaceful.


	24. Chapter twentyfour

TITLE: Do you really want me?

AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith

DISCLAIMER: I don't own this….

RATING: PG-13

SUMMARY: What if Faith did love Bosco….

SPOILER: Up to season six and my story "All that glitters is not gold."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: OK, so here is finally a new chapter. Hopefully you will like it.

I'm really sorry for taking so long but life has been busy both for my beta and me.

Thanks for all the great reviews! Please continue to tell me what you think, by reviewing, pm or mail.

Thanks go to Joey, my favorite beta and to Bee and Alexa for keeping my spirit up.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

I jerk awake suddenly, not sure what awoke me. My head is hurting so badly it feels like it's going to explode. It takes me a couple of minutes to figure out where I am since I don't want to open my eyes. It's the smell that makes me realize that I'm in the hospital and at the same moment, I realize where I am; it all comes back to me and I start crying all over again.

I don't understand where all these tears come from. You would think I should have run out days ago -- but no. There are always more to come. Actually, it's like all I'm able to do nowadays is cry. I can't eat or sleep, but crying my eyes out over and over again is no problem whatsoever.

"Faith. Faith, don't cry. It's OK. I'm right here."

The soft caring voice that whispers those words belongs to Bosco. I can't believe he's still here, especially after my hysterical behaviour earlier.

"Faith?" He puts his hand on my cheek, gently wiping at my tears. "Faith? Are you awake?"

He has been very affectionately and physical with me these past hours and I can't help wondering why. I carefully open my eyes because I want to see his precious face. He's much closer than I expected and the surprise makes me jerk away slightly.

"Shh, it's OK," he says kindly and caresses my hair.

"Bos," I whisper shakily. "Emily."

He smiles and moves to the side. "Right here."

I spot Emily curled up in a chair in the corner of the room. She's sound asleep, neatly tucked in under Bosco's uniform jacket. The sight of my daughter, safe and sound in the Bosco's care, makes my eyes tear up all over again.

"Thank-you, Bos."

"You're welcome." His thumbs gently wipe at my tears again. "But you gotta stop crying, Faith, OK? I know things are rough right now but it will get better. We will fix this together. I'll help you. I promise."

His reassuring words don't help at all. They just make me cry harder. "It can't be fixed."

He quickly moves to sit on the edge of the bed and pulls me up into his embrace -- just like he did yesterday. I know I shouldn't let him hold me like this. It's too intimate and he's only doing it because he feels sorry for me. Still, I can't make myself pull away. I need him so badly. I need to feel his strong arms around me. I need him to hold me and take care of me because I can't do this on my own anymore. I just can't. I feel like I'm drowning and I need him to save me. To be in his arms is what I have longed for -- for years -- and right now it's the only place where I actually feel alive.

"Yes it can, Faith. I promise. There isn't anything so bad that it can't be fixed, remember? You said so yourself. I'll make it all go away. I love you."

There he said it again. It's the fourth time since I woke up and I want to yell at him to stop saying things he doesn't mean. It's not that I don't want him to love me. I want it so badly it hurts but I know he's only saying it to make me feel better. So I just shake my head and bury my face in his uniform shirt. He smells so good. He smells like Bosco and that's the most comforting smell in the world -- always has been. He holds me tight for a while, without talking, just stroking my hair over and over again. No one can get me to calm down like Bosco and today is no different.

When he feels that I have calmed down, he pulls away slightly to look at me. "Faith, you gotta listen to me for a moment -- really listen, OK?"

He sounds very serious, almost desperate. I suddenly realize how tired and worn out he looks and I feel guilty. He's been here for hours, worrying about me when he should have been home resting to avoid a new ulcer.

I nod and do my best to pull myself together for him.

"When I talked to the doctor last night, he said he'd send down a shrink to talk to you. He wants you to be admitted."

I immediately start crying again. I can't help it. I don't want go to the psychiatric unit but I know I'll never pass a talk with the shrink. I am and depressed and he's going to notice.

Bos immediately puts one of his hands back on my cheek, looking me deeply in the eyes. "Don't cry, Faith. You don't think I'd let them ship you off to the loony bin if I can help it, do you?"

I bow my head. Maybe he should. Maybe that would be best for all of us.

Bosco carefully lifts my chin with his hand. "Faith, look at me."

I lift my eyes to meet his gaze.

"I'm not gonna let them take you anywhere, OK? You're coming home with me."

I open my mouth to protest but he puts his index finger to my lips. "Sshh, just listen to me. I guess they have been swamped at the loony bin because no one has been here yet, but they will be soon and I need you to pull yourself together just a bit, OK?"

I nod obediently, wondering how on earth I'd be able to do that.

"You don't have to worry about a thing, OK? You're gonna go home with me and I'll take care of you and Emily. All you have to do is stop crying while you're talking to the shrink. You need to convince them you're not gonna kill yourself if they let you go home with me."

Despite his desperate pleading, my eyes are overflowed with tears again. No matter what people say, and in spite of everything that has happened between us, Bosco has to be the sweetest and most caring person ever.

Not only have I put him in an awkward position by confessing my love to him but I have also broken down completely, leaving him to deal with everything -- including taking care of my daughter. And he doesn't hesitate even for a second to try to fix things -- as always. I wonder why. As things are, he should be happy to get rid of me.

"Please, Faith, don't cry," he whispers desperately and pulls me closer to him again. "You gotta calm down."

I bury my head into his shoulder, letting him comfort me and whisper back, "Why?"

He pulls away so he can look at me. "Why what, Faith?"

"Why are you doing this for me?"

He gently wipes at my tears with one of his hands, still keeping me in his embrace and smiles brightly. "Because I love you."

OK, so this has to stop. I can't let him keep saying that. He doesn't mean it. I know he doesn't but every time he says it; I almost believe him and eventually it's going to drive me insane. I take a deep breath, willing myself to stop crying long enough to let him off the hook. I put my hand on his cheek because I don't want him to feel rejected either. I don't want him to feel like I want him out of my life, like the last time I was in the hospital.

"Bos, I know I'm a basket case right now and I know that you hate when women cry and I know I scared you yesterday, but you don't have to say you love me. I don't want you to say things you don't mean because you're afraid I'll hurt myself. I'm OK. I promise."

The sad and concerned look in his eyes tells me he doesn't believe me. "Faith, you're not OK. Not even close."

I smile sadly. "Maybe not but that doesn't mean that you have to take care of me. I'm not your responsibility."

"Someone has to take care of you."

"The people in the psychiatric unit will do that."

He gently caresses my hair and asks carefully, "Do you want to go there?"

I can tell that he's both confused and desperate and that right now he's willing to do anything I ask him to, if that means I will stop crying.

I try to hold back my tears. "No, of course not, but I obviously need help."

"Then please let me help you. Just come home with me and we'll sort it out. I promise. I will get you a shrink. Hell, I'll get you the best there is. Just hold it together when you talk to the psych people here so they don't admit you."

I shake my head. "No, Bos. I don't want to be a burden to you."

His hand finds mine and his fingers interweave with mine. I look up at him and the look of love and affection in his eyes is breathtaking. "You could never be a burden to me, Faith. I love you."

It feels like he's twisting a knife in my chest. This has to stop now or I'm definitely going to have to kill myself.

"Please, Bos, stop saying you love me, please. I know you mean well but it hurts more to hear you say it, knowing that you don't mean it, than it does when you say you don't."

He looks so unhappy that I want to hug him but he beats me to it. He takes me in his arms and hugs me so tightly it's almost hard to breathe. Then he pulls away slightly and looks me steadily in the eyes.

"Listen to me, Faith. You have known me for a long time, right?"

I nod.

"Have you ever heard me say 'I love you' to anyone before?"

I shake my head. "You don't believe in love," I whisper.

"Exactly! So, tell me, Faith. Do you really think I would say it to you over and over again if I didn't mean it?"

I nod again.

He looks surprised. "Why would I do that?"

"Because you don't want to have my suicide on your conscience."

He smiles slightly. "You're giving me too much credit, Faith. I'm too much of a jerk to care that much."

"No you're not. You're sitting here with me now. You've offered to take care of me and Emily. You care just that much."

He runs his hand over his hair in frustration. "Because I love you, Faith! I wouldn't care this much if I didn't! I love you. Have I really screwed up what we had so bad that it's impossible for you to believe me?"

The desperate look in his tear-filled eyes, and the way he keeps repeating the three words I know he fears more than anything, finally convinces me that he says it because he really means it -- not just to make me feel better and keep me from killing myself. He really truly loves me. Bosco loves Faith. What I have been wishing for all these years has come true and still all I feel is confusion. Why does he love me all of a sudden? What has changed? Because something has changed, I'm sure of it. He didn't lie three moths ago when he said he didn't. So what is new? What did I miss?

I stare back at him and ask shakily, "But I thought…you said you didn't…I…I don't understand, Bosco. What changed?"

He smiles warmly. "Nothing changed, Faith. I know now that I have always loved you. I was just too thick-headed and self-absorbed to realize it but someone talked some sense into me yesterday."

I open my mouth to ask who, when something dawns on me and I start smiling as well. "Sully."

He nods his head. "Sully."

"Did he come down hard on you?"

The mischievous sparkle he had in his eyes before 9/11 is back for a brief moment when he replies, "No, he's actually very nice to me nowadays. My performance with the bleeding ulcer and watching you mothering me for thirteen years has made him think I'll die if he's too hard on me."

I can't help the big grin on my face. He's unbelievable.

Then his eyes go dead serious again as he asks, "So, do you believe me now?"

I nod and feel my eyes tear up. "Yes, Bos. I do."

The genuinely happy smile on his face amazes me. It was a very long time since I saw him smile like that, and the thought that he smiles like that because he loves me makes me feel unbelievably happy myself.

A male voice brings me back to reality. "Officer Yokas?"

Bosco moves away briefly so I can look at the one who's talking. "Yeah, that's me."

The man slowly crosses the room and reaches out his hand for me to take. "I'm doctor Richards. I work at the psychiatric unit here at Mercy. Your doctor thinks you're depressed and wants me to talk to you. Is it OK if we talk a bit right away?"

I nod and quickly dry at my tears. "Sure."

The doctor looks over at Bosco. "I'm sorry, but I want to talk to her alone."

He nods and moves so he stands in front of me, making it impossible for the doctor to see my face. He pulls me into a hug and whispers in my ear. "Please, Faith. No crying. Just hold it together for five minutes, please. You're coming home with me. I love you, remember?"

I hug him back tightly and murmur, "No crying, I promise."

I can feel him smile against the top of my head. Then he leans in and presses a soft kiss to my lips before leaving the room with a smiling Emily in tow. When he's out of my sight, I look up at the doctor. He looks really nice but I'm scared anyway. What if I can't do this?

The tears threaten to fall and I swallow hard. _"Just suck it up, Faith. He loves you, remember? He will take care of you." _I tell myself.

"So are you ready to begin?" he asks kindly.

I nod. I can do this. I know I can. Bosco loves me and there's no way I'm going to destroy that by ending up in the loony bin -- no way!

I sit on the edge of the bed feeling proud of myself. I made it. I made it through the whole conversation with the shrink without breaking down and now he's standing outside my room giving Bosco homecare instructions. He's releasing me only because I'm not living alone. Well, technically I do but Bos and Em are probably making up some story that fits right now. I don't want to think about what they come up with. The last time they needed a story he became her father. I'm probably married by now.

I keep watching Bosco's handsome, but serious face, as he talks to the doctor and fragments of their conversations reach me.

"…you gotta get her to eat, drink and sleep. It's very important. If you can't; you will have to take her back."

Bosco nods and takes some papers from the doctor's hand. Then the doctor turns and leaves and Bosco walks back into the room.

He smiles happily at me and runs his fingers along my cheek. His eyes are filled with love and he looks almost as proud as I feel.

"You did good, Faith -- really good." He holds out his hand. "Now, come on. Let's go home."


	25. Chapter twentyfive

TITLE: Do you really want me?

AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters. Just use them to play with now when Ed doesn't want them anymore. ;)

RATING: PG-13

SPOILERS: The whole show, with addition of my own stuff and my story "All that glitters is not gold."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: OK, so here I am again with a new chapter. I really hope you are going to enjoy it. :) This story is heading towards the end just one or two more chapters. But don't worry; my poor brain is working over time to sort out all the crap my muse comes up with. So I will be back with more stories.:)

Thanks for reviewing this. It's always a pleasure to read your comments, so please continue doing so, and thanks Joey for correcting this.:)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The ride home is silent. He only asks me if we want to stay with him or if we want him to stay with us. I tell him I think it's better if he stays at my place since Emily is going to need her stuff. He just nods and continues to drive. It's a good silence, though, and for the first time in days I feel at ease. Then I realize that Emily hasn't said a word since we left the hospital and feel a twinge of worry. What if she isn't OK with this?

I glance at her in the rear-view mirror. She doesn't look mad – just tired.

"Em, are you OK?"

She catches my gaze in the mirror and smiles fondly. "Yeah, Mom. I'm fine now."

I smile back. It's the first genuine smile I have given her in weeks. "That's good."

We reach the apartment and Bosco parks the car and we all get out. He walks up to me and holds out his hand. "Come on, Faith."

I smile and let my own hand slip into his, and hand-in–hand, we walk up to the apartment with Emily right behind us.

Once inside, she turns to Bosco and says, "I'll order the pizza."

Bosco nods. "Good."

Then he turns to me. "Why don't you try to get some rest? I'll wake you up when the pizza gets here."

My eyes tear up again for no reason at all. No reason except that resting would mean that I can't be in the same room as him and I want – need – to be near him. "I'm not all that sleepy, Bos."

His eyes are filled with concern as he wipes at my tears. "Faith, what's wrong?"

I just shake my head because I don't have an answer for him. I don't even have one for myself. I just feel lost. But as usual, he reads in my eyes what I can't say and without a word he pulls me into a hug.

We stand like that for a while and then he says, "Come on, let's sit down and watch some TV while we're waiting."

I just nod and following him to the couch and sit down. He sits down beside me and puts his arm around my shoulders. I rest my head against his. It feels very comfortable. It almost makes me feel safe.

A short while later, a knock on the door announces that our lunch is here. Emily gets the door and Bosco gets up from the couch to pay the delivery guy. I remain where I am, just watching him as he speaks to Emily and the delivery guy. It's amazing. I have watched him almost every day for thirteen years and I never get tired of doing so.

He takes the pizza and turns to me. "Dinner or lunch, or whatever you wanna call it, is ready. Let's eat."

I hesitantly stand up and look pleadingly at him. "I'm not hungry, Bos. I think I'll go and lie down instead."

He takes a step closer to me and gently tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. "Faith, you gotta eat. I have to take you back to the hospital if you don't. Is pizza too much for you? Do you want something else?"

"I can make you a sandwich," Emily offers quietly.

I force a smile. "No that's fine. I'll try some."

Bosco's eyes meet mine and I can see the gratefulness in them. He's silently thanking me for trying.

None of us say much while we are eating but I notice two things. One: both Emily and Bosco look incredibly tired and, considering how tired I feel myself, I think we could all use a nap. Two: Bosco is barely eating. I feel worried. What if he doesn't feel well again? God knows I have caused him enough stress the last two days to result in a dozen ulcers.

"Faith, you're not eating," Bosco points out reproachfully.

"Well, I could say the same about you."

He smiles slightly. "Fair enough. How about we both finish up?"

I smile back. "Deal."

He holds my gaze for a few seconds and I know he's telling me not to worry. I give him another faint smile to show that I get the message.

He turns his attention to Emily and asks, "Do you need a note or something for school tomorrow? To explain your absence today, I mean."

She shrugs. "I guess."

"Then I guess I have to write you one."

I'm about to protest but Emily beats me to it. "You?"

It's his turn to shrug. "Why not? I'm your father, remember?"

Emily's grin, along with the boyish sparkle in Bosco's eyes, makes me feel like I'm dealing with two teenagers – two completely insane teenagers.

I put my head in my hands and whimper. "Bos, what did you tell that shrink."

"Nothing, I let Emily do the talking," he replies innocently.

I lift my head and sternly look at Emily. "Emily?"

She shrugs again. "I didn't really tell him much. He asked if Bosco was a relative because he couldn't let you take care of me alone when you are this depressed. I told him Bosco used to take care of me all the time and then Bosco told him he'd do anything to make sure you and I were OK, and that was it. He started to assume a bunch of things. Like, that Bosco was my father and stuff. It wasn't like we lied or something. We just didn't correct him."

I give out another whimper. This is just a catastrophe. I don't understand why neither of them can see what horrible consequences these kinds of games can cause us all. Tears rapidly start to fill my eyes and I can't stop a sob from escaping. Bosco gets up from his chair and is by my side instantly.

He hugs me closely and his voice is filled with regret as he whispers, "I'm sorry, Faith. Don't cry. Maybe we were doing a stupid thing but we did it for you. We did it because we love you. We just wanted to take you home so we could take care of you."

His confession only makes things worse because it makes me realize it's my entire fault. If I wasn't such a basket case, neither of them would have to feel the need to protect me and none of this would have happened.

I feel completely useless and I'm crying so hard I'm shaking.

"Shh, Faith, it's all right," Bosco says soothingly. "Let's get you in bed, OK? You're exhausted and need to get some rest."

I nod against his shoulder, but I can't move. It's like all my remaining strength has vanished. I can't even find enough strength to talk. But as usual, he knows what I need without me having to tell him. He has always had that ability, but I think that in the past, he just chose to ignore it most of the time. So, without another word, he scoops me up in his arms and carries me to the bedroom.

He lies me down on the bed and strokes my cheek tenderly. "Get, some rest, Faith. You need it."

I brush my fingers through his short hair, thinking that he looks almost as exhausted as I feel. "You should get some rest, too. You look tired."

He smiles fondly at me. "You just can't stop worrying about me, can you?"

I smile back. "Not a chance. I love you."

His smile widens. "I know. I love you, too."

His reply fills me with a wonderful feeling of happiness and a very comforting feeling knowing that no one or nothing can hurt me ever again

I trace his jaw line with my fingers and say, "Please, Bos. Get some rest."

"I will, I promise. I 'm gonna take a nap on the couch as soon as you're asleep."

I reach for his hand and link my fingers with his. "Can't you just stay here with me?"

"You sure?" His uncertainness is unbelievably sweet and thoughtful and makes me love him even more. I just wish he knew how many times I'd wished I could go to sleep in his arms – especially the last two months.

"I'm sure."

"OK."

He climbs in bed behind me and puts his arm around me. "Go to sleep, Faith."

I just nod and let myself drift off to sleep.

I wake up to the sound of someone getting sick. The absence of Bosco's warm body against mine tells me it's him, and that means that he's not feeling well – just as I suspected. The thought almost makes me start crying all over again because I know it's all because of me, but I quickly swallow my tears. I'm surprised that I'm actually able to do it, but I guess my desire to take care of, and protect him goes beyond everything.

I make my way to the bathroom. Emily is no where in sight and I'm briefly wondering if she's taking a nap, too. I reach the bathroom door and open it. He stands by the sink, splashing cold water on his face.

"Bosco?"

He turns around, looking slightly surprised when he spots me. "Faith, what are you doing up? Is something wrong?"

I shake my head and bite my bottom lip. "No, I just heard you getting sick and…. You OK?"

He gives me a fake smile that is so good that if I didn't know him as well as I do, I easily would have bought it. And I'm beginning to understand how he always manages to fool the doctors and the shrinks.

"I'm OK, Faith. It's no big deal. Just give me a minute, OK? Why don't you go back to bed?"

I'm about to protest when I realize that I might as well let him have a minute to compose himself. It's not like he's going to try to escape through the window. I give him a faint smile and close the door, but I don't go back to bed. I'm too worried to even think of going back to sleep right now. I sit down on the couch instead. Bosco joins me a couple of minutes later. He's very pale but at least there's no pain in his eyes.

I move closer and run my hand along the side of his face. "I'm sorry."

He frowns. "Sorry for what, Faith?"

"For making you worry so much, you get sick."

"Faith," His voice is soft and gentle. "I'm not sick. Everything is fine."

I feel myself tense. I hate when he lies. "You're not fine, Bosco! You hardly eat. You're pale and tired and you just got sick. You're not fine at all. You're sick again and I think you should go to the doctor before you end up in the hospital, because I can't deal with that right now, Bos. I need you here with me."

The mere though of him ending up at the hospital again brings tears to my eyes and I curse my inability to hold it together.

He looks me deeply in the eyes and his thumbs trace my cheekbones, sweeping away the tears that have escaped. "I know that, Faith, and I'm not going anywhere. Everything is under control. I promise."

"Can't you just see a doctor and get some medicine or something? Please, Bos – for me."

He smiles and puts his hand in his pant pocket, taking out a prescription bottle, holding it up in front of me. "See, it's already taken care of. There's nothing to worry about. I swear, Faith. It's totally under control."

I look doubtfully at him.

"Honestly, Faith. You know I'd do anything to make sure you're safe, right?"

I nod because I do. I trust him completely when it comes to that and – except for the Cruz mess – he has never let me down when it comes to that.

"Right now, the only way to make sure you are – is to stay with you and I can't do that if I'm sick. So I'm gonna make sure I don't get sick, OK?"

My desire to believe him is overwhelming and yet I still find it hard to do so. I know him. I know how he doesn't usually give a damn about his own health, but I need him so badly that I decide to believe him anyway.

"Swear?"

He nods gravely. "I swear."

"Good." I smile and let my head rest against his shoulder. It feels so good to be near him – so natural. I can't believe we have only been together for a day. It feels like forever.

The good feeling doesn't last for long, though, because Bosco carefully pushes me away and turns to face me.

"Faith, we need to talk."

My eyes feel hot as they always do when I'm on the verge of crying. I knew that this was too good to be true. I knew he didn't really love me. He just wanted me to make it out from the hospital. I close my eyes and try to harden myself for the pain the inevitable rejection will bring.

"Faith, look at me."

"_Damn it, Bos! Can't you just let me suffer in peace?"_ I think, but I obey his wishes and open my eyes.

I can see him hesitate and I know he's debating with himself if I'm strong enough for this or not, or maybe he's trying to come up with a nice way of telling me.

"Faith, after you got shot last year, you went to see a shrink, right?"

I just stare at him because this wasn't even close to what I thought he was going to say, but the topic explains his hesitation. He hates to talk about the time when I was shot and recovering.

"So, did you?" he coaxes gently.

I nod.

"Did you like her?"

I shrug. "Does anyone like their shrink?"

He grins. "I guess not." Then he quickly turns dead serious again. "But could you talk to her? Did she make you feel comfortable?"

I chew on my lower lip while I'm thinking about it. "No, not really. I don't think she really got any of this cop partner stuff, you know?"

He looks disappointed but nods knowingly.

"Why do you ask? Why does that matter now?"

He runs his hand over his hair and sighs. "I'm asking because we need to find you a shrink."

I shake my head forcefully. "No, Bos. We don't. I don't need one. Not anymore – not when I have you."

"Yes, you do. It was one of the conditions the shrink at the hospital made. You could only go home if you had someone with you and if you went to see a shrink as soon as possible."

I look pleadingly at him. "He doesn't have to know, Bos."

He sighs again. "Faith, don't do this…."

I move closer and put my hand on his cheek. "Please, Bos."

He takes my hand away and shakes his head. "No, Faith, this isn't about him knowing or not. This is about you, and you need to see a shrink."

I swallow hard to keep myself from crying but the tears start running down my cheeks anyway. "No, Bos, I…I don't."

"Yes, you do! Look at you. You can't go five minutes without crying!"

He's yelling at me. He's yelling at me and his voice is angry. He's angry and impatient and I know he's sick of my behaviour. I should have seen this coming. I mean, who am I trying to fool? This is Bosco. He hates whiny people – especially women. I should have known it was just a matter of time before he got tired of playing the knight in shining amour. I know it's just a matter of seconds before he walks out of the door and I will be alone again – completely alone. The thought makes me breakdown completely and I put my head in my hands, sobbing hysterically.

"Faith…." His arms close around me and he starts rocking me back and forth. "Faith, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. I swear. But you scare me – a lot. You're not yourself, Faith. You used to be so strong, independent and self-assured. Now all you do is cry and it's scary. I'm not used to seeing you this fragile. I'm used to turning to you to find the strength I need – the strength I don't have myself. I need the old Faith back. Please, Faith, let me get you some help."

"Yo…o…u a…re hel…p…ing me alr…re…ady. You're all I ne…ed."

"No, Faith. You need to see some professional, too. I can't help you through this on my own."

I pull away from him and angrily dry at my tears. "If you really loved me you wouldn't make me do something I don't want to do. If you really loved me you'd help me."

It's a low blow. I know that. I'm pushing my luck. I know that, too, but I can't help it. I hate shrinks just as much as he does, and he of all people should understand why I'm putting up a fight. He of all people should let me off the hook. I expect to see anger in his eyes but all I see is a flash of hurt.

It's soon replaced with deep concern; the truth is that I have never seen him look this concerned ever before. He reaches out his hand and tangles his fingers in my hair. "I'm doing this _because _I love you, Faith."

I snort. "Nice try, Bosco."

Again, I expect him to be angry but he just looks calmly at me. "Remember when you went behind my back and told Swersky that I needed to see a shrink?"

I close my eyes. I really hate that memory and it's kind of shitty of him to bring it up now, but I guess I was the one who started it.

"That was different. I just--"

He holds up his hand. "Let me finish. I felt betrayed, Faith – very betrayed. I thought that you should have seen that you were helping me by just hanging around. I truly thought that was enough and that I didn't need any other help, but we both know that I was wrong and I know now why you did it. You did because you love me and because you were smart enough to realize that right then, that wasn't enough. You were smart enough to see that it was more than you could handle on your own. And you know what, Faith? All I know about how to handle people who are in some kind of crises, I have learned from you, and, right now, I'm trying to prove how much I love you by being smart enough to realize I can't handle this on my own. I don't want to give you a hard time, Faith. All I want is for you to get better."

His frantic tries to make me see what's best for me is very touching and I feel bad for giving him such a hard time, but I can't do this. I just can't. I'm barely holding it together as it is and if some shrink starts to make me face things I can't handle; I'm going to go insane for sure.

I look down at my hands resting in my lap, and start picking at my cuticles. "I can't do it, Bos. I just can't. I'm sorry."

He lifts my chin to make me look at him and says gently, "You love me and you don't want anything to happen to me, right?"

I nod eagerly. What kind of question is that? He ought to know that by now.

He smiles warmly. "Then do it for me. Save me from getting hurt by seeing a shrink."

I feel very confused. How would the fact that I'm seeing a shrink keep him from getting hurt?

"I'm not following, Bos."

"You're afraid I'll get sick again – that the ulcer will get worse and start bleeding, right?"

I nod and squint my eyes hard in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. I don't even want to think about it. The fear for losing him is choking.

"Then help me prevent that from happening by seeing a shrink. I'm never going to be able to handle this much worry in the long run, Faith. I can't go to work every day worrying about you doing something stupid because I'm not here. I can't handle that kind of fear day after day. Please, Faith, do this for me, please!"

I know he has me. He is playing his cards very well. There's no way I'll be able to disobey his wishes. I love him and need him way too much to take the chance. The scariest part, though, is that I'm not sure that me seeing a shrink is going to keep him from breaking down. He's much more fragile than he realizes and one thing is for sure; right now, I can't handle another breakdown from him. I have no strength to offer him – none whatsoever. But, suddenly I realize that there is a way out of this. There is a way to save both of us.

I look gravely at him. "OK, on one condition."

"You name it and it's yours."

"You will see one as well."

He looks disgusted. "Why the hell would I want to do that? I don't need a shrink."

"You don't?"

"Hell no!"

"Well, I think you do," I answer calmly and I know he can see the challenge in my eyes.

"Why's that?"

"Because you're standing awfully close to the edge, Bos. Just a little push and you will fall down."

"You're wrong, Faith."

"Am I? Bos – no offense – but the last four moths you have had numerous panic attacks. It's constantly touch-and-go with that damn ulcer and it doesn't take much to set you off. And what about the nightmares, huh? How much longer do you think you can go on without breaking down, Bos? How much longer?"

My voice cracks and I swallow hard because I can't break down now. I need to make him see what I see before I lose it. _"Just one more minute, Faith, just one more minute,"_ I tell myself.

He looks lovingly at me. "I'm not going to break, Faith. I made it this far, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did. Because I was there to help you through! But I can't do that anymore. Can't you see that? I can hardly make it through the day myself! And you can't break, Bosco, because I'll die if you do. I need you too much!" I shout desperately and start crying hysterically.

He pulls me back into his arms and holds me tightly without saying a word. He just holds me until my tears subside and I stop sobbing. He waits patiently until I'm almost completely calm before he pulls away and softly dries my teary face with his shirt sleeve.

"I'll call O'Malley first thing in the morning, OK?"

I sniff a bit. "OK."

He smiles and caresses my cheek. "But we still have to find someone for you."

"Maybe you can ask O'Malley. He might know someone."

He nods. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea and if he doesn't know anyone, the guy at the hospital and Proctor gave me some suggestions."

"Proctor gave you suggestions?"

He runs his hand over my hair. "I'm not the only one who wants the old Faith back."

"This is gonna to be OK, right?" I search his eyes for confirmation.

He nods reassuringly. "It's gonna just fine, Faith. I promise."

I touch the side of his face affectionately. "I'll hold you to that, Maurice Boscorelli."

He just smiles fondly and puts his arms around me. I let my head rest on his shoulder. We sit in comfortable silence for a while and then he says, "You should go back to sleep. The doctor gave me some sleeping pills for you. You should take one and go back to bed."

"Only if you come with me."

He gives me the sweetest smile. "I will join you soon. I'll just check on Emily and go home and have a shower and change clothes. I have been in this uniform for two days now."

I feel lonely and abandoned in the same moment he utters the words "go home."

"You can shower here," I say and feel ashamed for how small and pathetic my voice sounds.

He feels my distress and hugs me tightly. "Don't worry, Faith. I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone, and of course I can shower here if that makes you feel better."

"Thank-you, Bos."

He kisses me tenderly. "Anything for you, Faith. I love you, remember? And I promised to see a shrink for you. Believe me, showering at your place is no big deal."

I can't help but chuckle.

He grins widely in return. "Why don't you go and lie down in the bed? I'll bring you the pill."

"OK."

I walk into the bedroom and strip out of my clothes, replacing them with a t-shirt and slip under the covers.

In the same moment Bos enters the room and hands me a pill.

I hesitate. I don't usually take any pills and I'm not sure I want to start now.

Bosco tucks my hair behind my ears. He's hands are so gentle and it's hard to believe it's the same man who beats people senseless. "Please, Faith, just take it. You really need to sleep through the night for once. Don't make me take you back to the hospital."

"OK." I take it and down it with the water he gives me, then I lie down again.

Bosco sits down at the edge of the bed and kisses my forehead. "Go, to sleep, Faith. I'll be right back."

I nod and close my eyes. "OK"

I must have dozed of because I wake up when he lays down behind me. "Bos?

He puts his arms around my waist and kisses my neck. "Shh, Faith. Go back to sleep."

I obediently close my eyes and feel sleep overtake me almost immediately. I feel warm and safe – almost happy – and for the first time in months I have faith that things might work out for the best – in spite of everything. Because I know that nothing can harm me as long as Bosco is around and from the way it looks; he's planning to stick around for good this time.


	26. Chapter twenty six the conclusion

TITLE: "Do you really want me?"

AUTHOR: faith- in- Faith

DISCLAIMER: Don't own any of the characters, just borrow them for my idea's.

RATING: PG-13

SPOILERS: There are no more…. But you might want to read my story "All that glitters is not gold."

SUMMARY: What if Faith did love Bosco….

PARING: Bosco and Faith, romance.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know, it took forever…. But I had a major writers block according this story! I could write pretty much everything, just not this. But finally, here it is! I hope you like it. Happy ending isn't my strong side….

Anyway, this chapter I dedicate to yokascruz, who have loved it like no one else.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

I unlock the door with a big smile on my face.

"Hi, Mom," Emily greets me friendlily. Then she says a bit more hesitantly, "You look happy – did it go well?"

My smile grows even bigger. "Yeah, I made it. I'm a sergeant now!"

Emily quickly wraps her arms around me. "Oh, Mom, that's great!"

"So, no cake this time, huh?" I say teasingly, referring to the last time I took the sergeant's test.

Her expression grows serious and I feel bad for bringing it up. "No, Bosco didn't think we should put that kind of pressure on you…you know… just in case you didn't make it. It's not that we didn't believe in you. It's just…." Her voice trails off and she twists her hands nervously.

The love and affection I feel for both of them is overwhelming and I pull her into another hug. "It's OK. I love you for it."

"You do?"

I smile again. "Yeah, I do. Where is Bos anyway?"

"He's picking up Charlie from school."

I look at my watch. "Yeah, of course." I bite my bottom lip. "Did he look OK?"

"Mom," Emily says warningly. "Don't start that. You know he's fine."

I sigh. "Yeah, I know, but he was really worn out when he got home from work yesterday."

Emily looks fondly at me. "I know, but he had a really hard shift. It's normal to be tired and he looked perfectly all right this morning, and, besides, if he really didn't feel well, he'd tell us. You know that."

I sigh again. "I know. I'm sorry. I just don't seem to be able to stop worrying."

"It's OK, Mom. You love him, but you know he hates it and he has really changed. You just have to trust him. He trusts you, remember?"

I hang my head. "I know."

"Don't worry. I won't tell him."

I smile. "Thanks."

Emily is right. He has changed. A lot of things have changed since that day, eighteen months ago, when Bosco decided to save me by loving me. He hasn't left my side ever since. He went to his apartment and got some of his stuff the day after he and Emily took me home from the hospital and he never left again. Things are better now. A lot better – almost perfect – and I can't remember ever being this happy before.

The road to get to this point was long and bumpy, though, and some days I was ready to quit, but Bosco never let me. I really was a mess in the beginning. I know that. Every day was a struggle. Some days I had to fight just to be able to get out of bed. Bosco and Emily didn't trust me to be alone so they took turns watching over me. For a month's time I wasn't alone one single hour of the day. Of course it would be hard for anyone to see someone they love so depressed, but it was even worse for poor Emily. I'm her mother and she's not supposed to be the one taking care of me. It could easily have destroyed her forever, but Bosco realized it and took her to a shrink, too. Two months after I ended up at the hospital we where all seeing a shrink. If the whole situation hadn't been so tragic, I'd have laughed.

But I slowly started to get better, with a lot of help from Bosco, Emily and the shrink who Proctor had recommended. He was a calm, quiet man, who made me feel very comfortable and, although he didn't push me, I ended up telling him everything and he helped me see the light again. But fact remains, I could have never made it without Bos. He really is amazing, because while he was helping me get my act together, he also struggled with his own pain and sorrow – coached by O'Malley – and took care of Em. She's really close to him nowadays. Closer than she has ever been with me or Fred, I think, but – on the other hand – Bos is the only one who has never let her down.

Sully has been a great help, too. He's been there for Bosco all this time and he's probably the reason Bos managed to deal with all the responsibility that was suddenly put on his shoulders. They're still partners. They take very good care of each other and getting along most days. Poor Davis never got his partner back, but he seems to take it in stride. He's paired with a rookie named Finney. He's a good kid and I think he will be a great cop when Davis is done with him.

Bosco is doing really good. He's been great through all this and he has really changed. He's calm and looks happy. The ulcer is completely gone and hasn't bothered him in a year. O'Malley is very pleased with him and let him off the hook six months ago, with strict orders to get back if he felt the need. Bosco's sweet, loving and caring to me, Emily, and Charlie and the days when he bottled everything up inside until it made him sick, or caused a nervous breakdown, are over. He's always telling me if he's not feeling well or if something is wrong. Still, I can't help but worry about him – old habits die hard, I guess…and nothing is more frightening than the thought of losing him.

I'm almost back to normal as well. I still get very anxious at times, but my shrink says it's going to disappear eventually. It took me six moths before I could go back work and I've been on desk duty ever since. There are several reasons for that. At first there was a condition for me to go back to work at all. I wasn't ready to be out on the streets yet. Then, when Lieu discovered that Bos and I were in love, we weren't allowed to ride together.

I will never forget the day we went to his office and told him.

_He smiled and said with a wink,_ _"I knew all the time he_ _had something on you. I imagined you were smarter than this, though."_

"_Thanks a lot," Bosco murmured, sounding hurt._

_Swersky smiled but then he grew serious. "I'm just kidding around, but you're right. I have been very unfair to you lately and I owe you an apology."_

_Bosco smiled back. "Apology accepted."_

And with that; the Cruz mess was finally over and done with.

And when the judge decided that I could have Charlie back if someone would be there to take care of him when he got home from school, the arrangement became permanent, and – facing permanent desk duty – I decided to take the sergeant's test as soon as I felt strong enough to deal with that kind of pressure.

I work second watch now and Bosco is still on third. That way there's always someone there for the kids. It's sad not to be able to work with him and we see way too little of each other, but until Charlie gets older; this is how it has to be. At least Lieu is kind enough to give us the same days off.

The reason I finally got custody of Charlie is very sad. Fred started drinking again. His girlfriend left him and he couldn't make it alone without drinking, and this time I wasn't there to save him. Bos and I tried to help him, though. Bos got him into some program but he couldn't stay sober, and my shrink recommend us to let go, since the whole thing threatened to overwhelm me and even made me have a setback.

The last custody hearing was a real nerve-wracker. I already had the split custody back and had Charlie on the weekends, but only the weekends Bosco was off. They thought I was too instable to be alone with him. Who would have thought that people would ever consider Bosco as the more stable of the two of us?

Then they had to decide if they could give Charlie back to me or if they would put him in foster care until I got better. Bosco had promised me he'd never let it happen but I was still scared to death. But O'Malley, Lieu and Sully saved us. They were all called as witnesses and they convinced them that Bosco would be able to handle the responsibility another child meant, and Emily's teacher took the stand and told them Emily was doing better than ever, especially considering the circumstances. I could tell that the judge was extremely impressed that Bosco had realized she needed a shrink. My own shrink finally convinced them, by telling them I was doing very well and would be able to take responsibility for Charlie myself very soon.

So, for six months now, Charlie has been living with us and it works great. Bosco is really taking his responsibility for the kids seriously, acting like he was their father most of the time, and no one handles Emily as well as he does. It feels kind of surreal that something that started as a desperate lie to get to see Bosco, and to keep me out from the loony bin, would end up as reality. Things are really working out – just like Bosco promised me they would – and me taking the sergeant's degree is the last step back to an almost complete life.

The sound of Bosco's key in the door tells me they're home and soon enough Bosco walks through the door with Charlie in tow.

He smiles at me and his eyes are soft and caring. He doesn't know what to expect and he's trying hard not to put any kind of pressure on me. "Hi, baby. How did it go?"

I grin at him. "Great, you're now looking at your next superior officer."

His eyes widen and a big, proud smile breaks out on his face. He takes a step forward and pulls me into a bear-hug that sweeps me off the ground. "Congratulations, Faith! I knew you could do it."

I just smile happily and bury my face in this neck.

Bosco puts me down on the ground again and starts kissing me, but Charlie's impatient voice makes him break off really quickly. "Come on, Bos. Let her go. I wanna hug her, too."

Bosco smiles fondly at him. "Sure, Champ, go a head. She's all yours."

Charlie smiles back and hugs me tightly. "Congratulations, Mom."

"Thanks, sweetie."

The sound of Bosco's cell-phone ringing makes me look up. I really hope it isn't work. It's our day off and I really want to spend it with him.

He gives me a reassuring smile and hit the answer button. "Boscorelli."

"Hi, Sul. No, it's OK. It went great. She nailed it."

He smiles lovingly at me. "Yeah, I'll tell her that. Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow then, I'm gonna be a bit late, though.

"Very funny, Sullivan. Fact is; I have a reason. I gotta take Charlie to the dentist."

"Yeah, I told Lieu. He's OK with it"

"Not long, I should be in by 3:30."

"OK, take care and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye."

He disconnects the phone and I look questioningly at him. "What was that all about?"

"It was just Sully who wanted to check in to make sure you nailed it. He said congratulations, by the way."

"That's sweet of him."

Bosco runs his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. "Yeah, the thing is that I asked him if he could take the kids out for a movie if you failed. You know, in case you got down and needed me."

I feel my eyes tear up. They're so sweet and caring. It's like a dream and I can't understand how I got this lucky. What I did to deserve to have them in my life.

Bosco puts his hand on my cheek and looks worriedly at me. "Faith, I'm sorry. It's not that I didn't believe you would make it. I just wanted to make sure I'd be able to take care of you in case it didn't work out. Please, Faith, forgive me."

I cover his hand with my own. "I'm not angry or hurt. I'm touched."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it was unbelievably sweet of both of you. Thank-you."

He takes me in his embrace and holds me tightly while stroking my hair. "You're very welcome. I'd do anything for you. You know that, right?"

I nod against his chest. "I know."

He pulls away slightly, still holding on to me. "Why don't you go and put on something nice. I'll take you all out to dinner tonight."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really, just go and get changed, OK? We can't be late."

I smile brightly at him. "OK."

I wake up because someone is lifting the covers, letting the cold air inside, and it makes me shiver. "Bos?" I murmur sleepily.

"Shh, it's OK. Go back to sleep," he whispers and puts his arms around me.

I turn around so I face him and gaze at him in the semi-darkness. "I don't want to sleep. I want to look at you."

He grins and rubs his thumb against my cheek. "Yeah? Why's that?"

"Because you're beautiful."

"So are you," he says softly as he runs his hand over my hair and carefully strokes my cheek with the back of his hand.

I close my eyes and lean into his touch. "I like it when you touch me."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I do – always have. From the day we met."

"Really? I could never tell."

"That's because you weren't supposed to know. I was married then and you weren't exactly thrilled by the idea of me loving you, remember?"

He swallows hard. "I remember. I'm so sorry, Faith."

I caress his cheek and kiss him lightly on the lips. "I know you are and we have been over this. I forgave you a long time ago and it's all in the past."

He gazes intently at me. "Thank-you, Faith – for saving me."

"Thank-you – for returning the favour."

"I love you," he whispers affectionately and pulls me closer to him.

"And I love you."

We lay in silence for a while, comforted by hearing each others every breath. Until he breaks it by asking, "How are the kids?"

I smile. "They're both fine."

"Did Emily come home on time?"

"Yes, she did."

"Sober?"

"Yeah."

He yawns. "Good, then I don't have to kick her ass tomorrow."

I can't help but chuckle. "No need for that."

"Good, I hate it when I have to," he murmurs sleepily.

I caress his hair. "I know, but I love you for caring enough to be willing to do it, and so does she."

He doesn't respond and I can tell he's already half asleep. He probably had a hard shift.

I kiss his forehead. "Get some sleep, Bos."

"Mmm."

I snuggle closer to him and close my eyes, content to be near him. There's nowhere in the world I feel safer than in his arms. I realize that this how it's going to be for the rest of my life, because he really wants me. Me, and no one else, and the thought finally lulls me to sleep.

THE END


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